


More Than You Bargained For

by Pensieri



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 12:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pensieri/pseuds/Pensieri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Santana has been living in New York with her friends Kurt and Rachel for three years, and is still trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life. In a bar one night, looking for a girl to casually hook up with, she meets Quinn. However, what she doesn't know is that she'll get much more than she bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sexergency

**Author's Note:**

> This story originally started as a one-shot but quickly started to grow in size... It's not going to be a super lengthy story, as it is sort of my side project. It will probably be around 25,000 words in total.  
> This was first posted on FF.net at the start of July and I'm now posting all currently written chapters on here.

Santana sighed loudly as she flopped down with a thud onto her bed, the partition around her 'bedroom' pulled back so she was clearly visible to her roommate.

"What's wrong now?" Kurt asked, his voice completely deadpan.

"God, Lady Hummel! You could at least try to sound like you give a shit!"

"Santana, that is the fourth dramatic sigh you've done in the last 5 minutes." He responded, not looking away from the television.

"So why the hell did it take you so long to ask then? And don't pretend you're too absorbed in America's Next Top Model because it's a load of crap."

Santana couldn't see Kurt's face but she knew he was rolling his eyes as he spoke, "It's research. I do work for vogue . com remember."

"How could I forget when it's all you talk about?! And you know what we should be talking about? Me."

Kurt turned around, "Fine. Let's get this over with, although I wish Rachel were here too to share my pain. What's wrong?"

"Finally!" Santana said, sitting up on her bed, "Do you know how long it's been since I've had sex?"

"Seriously, Santana?! Seriously? This is what you want to talk about?"

"Kurt, my sex life is important! It has been forever, like at least a month. I need your help!"

"My help? This is hardly an emergency."

"Yes, it is. It's the biggest kind of emergency there is! It's a sexergency!"

Kurt raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow, "You just made up that word. It's awful. Never use it again."

"Fine, but please help? I need a wingman."

"You want a gay man to help you find a hot girl?"

Santana nodded, "Exactly! You won't steal any potential hotties because you're gay! Not that anyone would pick you over me anyway..."

Kurt pursed his lips before replying, "I thought you were trying to convince me to help you, not convince me to throw something at you."

Santana met his gaze, attempting her best puppy dog eyes in the hope of emotionally blackmailing her friend, "Please?"

"Will it shut you up?"

Santana nodded gleefully, "Absolutely."

"Fine."

Santana sprang off her bed, "Yay! Let's go!"

Kurt looked surprised, "What?! Right now?"

"There's no time like the present, Lady Hummel. Let's hit up a gay bar!"

Kurt moaned, "Fine, but we're only staying for an hour."

"Two?"

Kurt narrowed his eyes, "One and a half but you buy all my drinks."

"Deal." Santana held out her hand, shaking Kurt's, "Let's find me a sexy lady!"

Santana ran ahead, practically skipping away from their apartment. As Kurt closed the huge sliding door, he pulled on his coat and shouted down the stairs to Santana, "Fine, but you better stay at her place because curtains will do nothing to drown out those noises and I would rather not be scarred for life."

* * *

Kurt tipped up his glass, finishing yet another drink. He held out the glass to Santana, "Refill."

Santana sighed dramatically, "How the hell am I supposed to find a hot girl when all I'm doing is being your freakin' waiter?"

"Fine, the drink can wait." Kurt responded, the glass in his hand clinking as he set it down against the marble surface of the table, "There's a girl just walking in who's very pretty."

Santana's eyes flickered to the door, she shrugged, "Nothing special."

"What? She's gorgeous!"

"Nah, she's average. Plus those shoes are hideous, that shade of brown looks like something nasty you'd find lurking on top of a pond. I thought you worked in fashion, I'm totally going to tell your boss."

"Santana, her shoes aren't brown. Who are you looking at? Over there, look." Kurt said, pointing, "The blonde."

Santana looked again, following Kurt's finger. Her eyes settled on a blonde girl, who she guessed was in her early twenties. Although the girl wasn't faced completely in their direction, Santana's angle was certainly good enough for her to ascertain that the blonde girl was very pretty, "She's definitely got potential. Let's get closer."

As they walked through the busy bar, Santana peered around people straining to get a better view. They were about 5 metres away from the bar where the blonde girl was stood when she turned around. Santana stopped immediately, causing Kurt to topple into the back of her, "A little warning would be good, Santana!"

"Kurt... She's..." Santana stuttered through her words, "Fuck."

Kurt was in shock. They had known each other for 5 years and Kurt couldn't recollect Santana ever being at a loss for words. Normally, she was full of smart, sassy comments and quick comebacks but it was like she had been rendered speechless. Kurt grinned, "I told you she was gorgeous."

The cogs in Santana's brain were working overtime. The girl was more than gorgeous, she was absolutely stunning. Everything about her seemed perfect, and Santana was completely and utterly intoxicated. As Santana looked at the girl more closely she found herself becoming fixated on her hazel eyes and she wished she was close enough to see every fleck of colour in them. In the light of the bar the flecks of green in the girl's eyes were mesmerisingly vibrant. Santana wondered what it was that made that shade of green quite possibly the best shade of green in the world. Because Santana was absolutely sure it was. It was as if all the other greens in the world would never be quite good enough ever again.

As she looked at the girl, stood just a few metres away, she felt her breathing change. She tried to speak to Kurt but the right words wouldn't come out and her legs felt like they were frozen to the spot. It was as though her lungs were freaking out, her brain had turned to mush and all the nerves connecting her body together weren't working properly. It was unlike any feeling she had ever experienced, and all she knew was that it felt amazing. Santana knew she had to talk to the girl. Leaving the bar without at least trying would be nothing short of unacceptable.

Santana took a deep breath, "I have to talk to that girl."

Kurt grinned, "Then talk to her. You're the most confident girl I know when it comes to flirting."

"Ok... Yeah... I can totally do this. Ok, Hummel. Come with me but don't intrude, stay a few seats away but close enough to listen in."

"I know, I know. We've run through how this works a million times." Kurt said, "You better get me a drink though."

Santana rolled her eyes and shoved $20 into Kurt's outstretched hand before walking towards the bar, "Stay close."

The girl was stood with two other girls, who were both pretty. Santana prayed that neither was her girlfriend. As she approached she realised her palms had begun to sweat.  _What the hell? I don't get freakin' sweaty palms_. She wiped them frantically on herself and attempted to regain control of her shattered nerves. Suddenly she was stood in front of the girl and she realised she had no clue what to say.

The blonde noticed her and looked at her expectantly, with curiosity in those hazel eyes. "Hi," she said, her intonation clearly making her statement more of a question.

 _Oh my god, her voice is so ridiculously sexy. I didn't even know a voice could be that hot_. Santana swallowed, "Erm, hi."  _Fucking hell, Lopez. Get your act together._

The blonde raised an eyebrow, causing Santana's stomach to lurch so far it felt like it had shot straight out of the atmosphere and was orbiting some far off planet in an unknown galaxy, "Can I help you with something?"

Her voice sounded playful, and the slight smirk on her face told Santana that the blonde knew exactly why she had come over. The fact that the girl wasn't just telling her to get lost gave Santana the boost of confidence she so desperately needed, "I'm Santana, I wondered if I could buy you a drink?"

The girl paused for a second, glancing at her two friends before responding, "You know, that sounds good. Thank you, Santana."

Santana smiled, "What can I get you? Oh and I didn't catch your name."

"Vodka and cranberry. And I didn't tell you it," the girl grinned playfully.

"I know that," Santana said, looking directly into the girl's eyes, "But if you don't tell me I'll be forced to make up a name for you."

"Oh, will you now?"

"Afraid so, Agatha."

The girl giggled, and that simple sound made Santana's heart feel like it had leapt through the roof, "Did you seriously just call me Agatha?"

Santana nodded and pulled her best serious face, "Yep. Let me get your drink then, Ags. Can't have you being thirsty now, can we?"

The blonde laughed, "You're cute. My name's Quinn."

Santana flashed a smile in Quinn's direction.  _She just called me cute! Hell yes!_  "Quinn? Ah well, it's no Agatha but it'll do."

Santana leaned over the bar, getting the attention of the guy serving. As she did she caught Kurt's eye, he winked at her and grinned. She ordered Quinn's drink, as well as one for herself and returned her attention to the blonde.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friends?" Santana asked.

Quinn glanced at them, one of them mouthing something at her that Santana couldn't make out, before smiling softly back at Santana, "This is Kate and this is Emily, but it doesn't really matter because they were just talking about going off to the dance floor."

"And you're not?" Santana asked, hope igniting within her.

"No. I, erm, figured I'd stay here. After all, this girl is buying me drinks so I'd be a fool to leave."

Santana's confidence soared again, "A fool because of the free drinks or a fool because the girl is kinda awesome?"

Quinn giggled, "Both. Although she's really very big headed. Anyway, are you going to introduce me to your friend? Oh, don't look so shocked, it's painfully obvious you're here with that guy over there. He keeps staring at us and I know it's not because he thinks we're hot since he is so obviously gay."

Quinn pointed in Kurt's direction and Santana looked over. Kurt was eyeing up the blonde quizzically, "That's my roommate Kurt. Give me a second, Agatha."

Santana wandered to where Kurt was sitting, "Thanks, wingman. I, erm, don't think I'll be requiring your services anymore. I am seriously hoping I am in luck."

"You sure? She's not a crazy serial killer?"

"Even if she is... I think I'd still screw her. I'll text you before I go anywhere, ok?"

Kurt nodded. He reached for his coat, but suddenly stopped. His gaze fixed on a point to the right he said, "Actually... I might stay here for a little while longer."

Santana followed his gaze, although she had a feeling she already knew the reason Kurt had suddenly decided to stay, "Let me guess. Ridiculously well gelled hair and a bow tie?"

Kurt grinned, "Of course."

"You guys really need to stop with the random casual sex and just get married already."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Shush. We've only hooked up a few times."

"Whatever, have fun with Blaine." Santana smirked, returning to her seat next to Quinn.

One drink turned into four, and Santana wasn't quite sure where the time had gone. Talking to Quinn was easy. Santana had discovered that Quinn was an only child who had grown up in Ohio and then moved to New York for college. The thrill of living in a big city hadn't worn off by the time she'd graduated so she had stayed, finding an apartment that was vaguely affordable. She'd had no real plan and had started off working shitty hours at a bar to pay her rent while she focused on her dream, which was writing. It was her passion and she wanted to write novels, but since she needed actual money to live on she had been stuck working long hours for hardly any money. Eventually she had decided to apply for work at local newspapers, since at least that would be one step closer to her dream. After a lot of interviews, and doing a stack of unpaid work to boost her CV she had finally got a position writing book and film reviews for a newspaper. Ok, it wasn't her dream, but it was a step on the ladder and Quinn knew it was a good start. So she worked for the newspaper while she developed her own ideas for her books at home in her free time. Santana found herself being entranced by Quinn's every word. Normally when people told her their life stories she was just putting up with it so they could have sex, but with Quinn she found she was actually interested. She was even asking the blonde questions, intrigued to know more details.

As Quinn finished her fourth drink, Santana decided that she didn't just want Quinn... She needed her. It was completely unexplainable, but she knew it as well as her knew her own name. She needed Quinn. Santana could hold her alcohol, but while waiting with Kurt earlier she had drunk quite a bit. After all, she was an impatient person and when in bars she combatted that trait with alcohol. It always made the wait more interesting. Therefore, the gentle buzz of alcohol that was running through her meant that she was definitely not doing a good job of being subtle regarding her feelings for Quinn.

"This is going to sound completely crazy but you're fucking amazing. Seriously."

Quinn giggled, "I can't believe you just said that! You're not the playing it cool type, are you?"

Santana shrugged, "What's the point? Since I saw you I knew I wanted you."  _Oh my god, did I seriously say that? There's being forward and there's being absurd and I am not sure which side of that line I'm on right now._

"Wanted me? I'm not a car you can just buy, you know," Quinn said, grinning.

 _Fuck it, if I'm going to be forward I may as well do it properly_. Santana moved forwards, closing the gap between them, "Quinn, there's something about you. I don't think I could stay away even if I wanted to."

"And do you want to? Stay away that is."

"No." Santana bit her bottom lip, her eyes fixed on Quinn's, "Fuck, no. I definitely do not want to stay away."

Quinn didn't break their eye contact, "Good, because I really don't want you to."

Santana leaned forwards, connecting her lips with Quinn's. She felt Quinn immediately respond and there was no doubt about either of their intentions. As their lips continued to collide, Santana could taste the vodka on Quinn's lips. They moved in perfect rhythm, as though each knew exactly what the other was thinking. Quinn's tongue darted out, wordlessly asking for entry. Santana obliged and the kiss deepened. Santana could feel herself losing control, this kiss was just too good and as far as she was concerned their current location was far too public. She forced herself to pull away and was met with a look of confusion from Quinn.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh god, nothing is wrong, but if we carry on I really don't think I'll be able to stop myself." Santana said, her breath somewhat jagged.

"Stop yourself from what?" Quinn whispered, her voice low and full of desire.

"Fucking you right here on this bar." Santana stated slowly, pronouncing every word perfectly and precisely.

Quinn gasped softly, her eyes widening slightly. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, "Would my kitchen counter do as an alternative?"

Santana leaned forward, gently brushing her lips against Quinn's. She smiled as the blonde released a soft moan, "That sounds perfect."

* * *

Santana woke the next morning, a grin seemingly attached to her face. She rolled over, anticipating that she would find Quinn lying there but was met with a cold space on the bed where she had been before. Suddenly Santana could hear the sound of running water and her disappointment slipped away as she realised Quinn had just switched on the shower. True to her word, when the two girls had reached Quinn's apartment, they had done all manner of unspeakable things on Quinn's kitchen counters. Santana wasn't sure if Quinn would ever be able to cook there again. Of course, the kitchen counters hadn't been the only location that had been abused. Santana began mentally constructing a list in her mind, adding 'Quinn's bed' and 'Quinn's floor' to it before she decided to get up and see if they could add 'Quinn's shower' to their list.

She walked across Quinn's apartment, ignoring the fact that she was completely naked, and headed towards the bathroom. She knocked gently on the door and within seconds Quinn had opened the door a crack and was peering out at Santana.

"Yes?" Quinn asked, suppressing a smile as she took in Santana's naked form.

"How big is your shower?" Santana said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Quinn bit her lip, "Big enough but I have to be at work soon."

"What time?"

Quinn glanced at the clock hung on the wall behind Santana, "I have a little time..."

Santana grinned as Quinn opened the door fully, "Glad to hear it."


	2. A Two Time Thing?

"And then she did this thing where she like grabbed my hair and-"

"Santana! Please, for the love of god, stop talking. I think Rachel's having a heart attack!" Kurt interrupted, his face contorted in disgust, "We really don't need to know all the details."

"Don't take your sexual frustration out on me just because you and Blaine didn't hook up last night."

"Kurt is right, we just don't want to hear every tiny detail of your sordid night." Rachel intervened, saving Kurt from having to respond to Santana's jibe, "So, please... Just cease."

Santana rolled her eyes, shrugging off Rachel's words, "Fine, Hobbit."

"I'm scared to ask but will you be seeing Quinn again?"

"Well, after our incredible shower sex," Santana grinned as both Kurt and Rachel groaned in synchrony, "Oh be quiet… I was just going to say that after I blew her mind she did put her number into my phone."

"You got her number?" Rachel asked, surprised, "So are you going to call her?"

Santana nodded, "Yeah. I know I don't normally bother but this one is different. She's worth a second time."

"You know, for you that's vaguely romantic. I mean, for everyone else it just means you're having casual sex with someone more than once... But for you, this is almost like you're proposing," Kurt smirked, although the three of them knew the reason why Santana so desperately steered clear of anything that even closely resembled a relationship, and that reason was called 'Brittany'.

Brittany had been Santana's first love, her high school romance, and since their breakup Santana had built up impenetrable walls around her heart and no-one had ever come close to breaking them down. To say their breakup had been emotional was like saying that the North Pole was a bit chilly. It had been cataclysmic, completely and utterly devastating Santana. Kurt and Rachel had been forced to watch by as their friend sunk further into herself, caught in a spiral of self-pity and despair. It had taken countless months for her to begin to rebuild herself and the process had been slow.

Since then she had vowed that she didn't want another girlfriend, all she wanted were meaningless flings. At least that way she would avoid any emotional endings. Santana wasn't a slut by any means, every so often she just liked to let off some steam, and hooking up with hot girls for a night of carefree fun seemed to be the best way to do that. It also ensured she didn't get hurt in the process. Kurt and Rachel didn't have a problem with this. They were just glad that their friend had come back to them.

"Shut it, Porcelain." Santana narrowed her eyes, "She's hot, I'm hot... It'd be a crime not to get it on again."

"So are you going to call?"

"Bitch please! If I call now then I'll look desperate! You gotta wait first."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "I swear if everyone just made it clear when they liked someone then life would be so much simpler..."

"Well my life isn't a lame teen drama where everyone announces they're in love after one date. It's cool, Berry. I'll ring her tomorrow."

"You do what you like! You're a big girl!" Rachel snorted, "Right, I'm off to bed. I'm exhausted from all these rehearsals." She headed to the bathroom, saying goodnight as she left.

"I think I'll do the same, work tomorrow and all that jazz." Kurt stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in his trousers as he did, "How about you?"

"Yeah, I probably should. I've got to help with the early delivery at work tomorrow." Santana sighed.

Kurt turned around, "When are you going to go ahead and quit that job? You hate it."

"When I figure out what the hell I want to do with my life. Until then, quite frankly, I need the money."

"Don't we all." Kurt smiled, "Sleep well, Santana."

"Sleep tight."

* * *

Santana awoke to the familiar strange sounds that Rachel made when in the shower. Rachel insisted that she was warming up but Santana thought it sounded more like a cat was being bashed against the wall while howling. Ok, so that was a little harsh. More like a  _tuneful_ cat being bashed. After all, Santana couldn't deny that Rachel's voice was always perfectly in tune. It was a sound that Santana woke up to most mornings. After living with Kurt and Rachel for so long, it had stopped irritating her long ago. Now, it was just part of her regular routine.

Work the day before had been fairly dull, as ever. She hated sorting out deliveries, especially ones that arrived stupidly early in the morning. She'd been working at this bar for the last 8 months, and before that had had a string of jobs in various shops and restaurants. She hadn't liked any of them. Santana had moved to New York after realising that the cheerleading scholarship she'd got in Louisiana really wasn't for her. The problem was, 3 years later, she still didn't actually know what  _was_  for her. All she knew was that to continue being in New York she would have to continue to earn money. So she had slipped into a monotonous routine of working to stay afloat, rather than seriously considering her future.

That's not to say she hadn't at least tried figuring out what she wanted to do. After the whole Brittany debacle she had, for quite a while, considered her options but as always her work commitments had limited her free time considerably. She had taken a range of the various night classes that the colleges of New York had to offer, but nothing had struck the right chord. She sucked at art (her drawings had looked like a 5 year olds handiwork), she didn't like singing enough to focus solely on that, she'd tried creative writing but had lacked the patience (it had been the same with photography), crunching numbers and figures bored her senseless, and cooking had just resulted in her nearly melting a pan onto a stove.

New York was great, and she actually liked living with Kurt and Rachel a lot, but after 3 years the city was starting to grate on her a little. Everywhere she looked she saw people achieving their dreams, living their perfect lives, and she wasn't convinced anymore that being in New York would help her to achieve her dream, whatever that ended up being.

It was Saturday and she had the day off, a rarity at the weekend, so her plan was to enjoy it as much as possible. She smiled as she realised that maximum enjoyment could certainly involve seeing Quinn again. It had been a couple of days and (despite Rachel's nagging) Santana hadn't called her yet. She figured the day after could seem a bit clingy, and that definitely wasn't what she was going for. Ok, so she had to admit that Quinn had been on her mind a lot over the past 48 hours but there was nothing wrong with that. Maybe dreaming about her had been a bit much, but it wasn't like Santana could control her subconscious.

Santana dragged herself out of bed, pulling back the curtains to reveal Kurt sat in the armchair reading a book, a cup of coffee sitting on the table next to him.

"Good morning Santana," he said, not looking up from his book.

Santana grunted in response, wandering into the kitchen and pouring a cup of coffee. She took a swig and sighed slightly, "I can't cope without coffee."

"Why do you think I always make far too much?"

"You're the best," Santana said as she slumped down onto the sofa.

"I know. What are your plans for today?"

Santana shrugged, "No idea but it'll be something fun. I can't remember the last time I had a Saturday off. You?"

"Rach mentioned Callbacks. What do you think?"

Santana groaned, "I'll think about it."

"Oh don't be like that. You like Callbacks." Kurt smirked, "You should invite Quinn."

"I can deal with Berry nagging me but not you as well. Although I think I might ring her today, see if we can have a repeat performance."

"Sounds like a plan."

Santana grabbed her phone, "Call or text?"

"Call. Always call."

"Ooh are you calling Quinn? About time!" Rachel opened the bathroom door eagerly, her toothbrush in her hand.

"I swear you have unnaturally good hearing," Santana sighed, "Yes, I'm calling Quinn. Don't get excited Rachel, I'm not proposing. I just want to make it a two time thing. Although if we're being technical we're already way past the count of two."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Always the romantic. Come on, just admit that you like her a little bit."

Santana glared, "I'll admit nothing." Santana scrolled through her list of contacts, found Quinn's name and hit the call button. As she put her phone to her ear her grin quickly disappeared from her face, instead replaced with a look of confusion. She put her phone down, disconnecting the call.

"Problem?" Kurt asked, looking up from his book.

Santana looked at her phone, confusion on her face, "Erm, the number doesn't exist."

"What?!" Rachel squealed, her toothbrush hanging from her mouth. She leapt across the room and grabbed Santana's phone. Removing the toothbrush she gazed at the screen, "It's one digit short."

"She gave me a fake number? What the fuck?! I rocked her world."

"No! I'm sure it's a completely honest mistake. She probably just mistyped it. It's so easy to do!" Rachel insisted.

Santana wasn't sure why but the feeling of disappointment consuming her was far too overwhelming. She shrugged, pushing her feelings to one side, "Rach, it's ok. Whatever, she gave me a wrong number. I'll get over it." Santana looked at Rachel, whose eyes were full of concern, "Stop it, Berry! This is not a big deal."

"Are you sure you're ok?" Rachel asked.

"Of course I am. Whatever, it was just a one night stand."  _Why do I even care? Right, that settles it; tonight I need to flirt with someone. Flirting fixes everything._ "Callbacks is cool with me for tonight by the way, maybe I can find a hot girl to flirt with."

"Really?"

"Rachel! Stop it! Quinn's just another girl that I casually hooked up with, no different to the rest!"

"But you got her number and-"

Kurt interrupted, glaring at Rachel slightly, "Rachel, stop. Right, Callbacks it is."

Santana looked at Kurt gratefully, "Awesome. Right, shower time." She walked past Rachel, shutting the door to their bathroom quickly before Rachel could ask her any more questions.

"Kurt," Rachel began, "I'm worried about her."

"I know you are."

"When she came back after seeing Quinn you saw what she was like. She wouldn't stop talking about her and whenever she mentioned her name her eyes lit up. I haven't seen her like that since… well since Brittany. Plus when she decides to hook up with a girl she never sees them more than once."

"I know." Kurt nodded, "I don't think she's  _that_  bothered though, you know what Santana's like. I'm sure you're reading too much into it."

"Maybe I am but I'm telling you, I think she cares a little more than you think. We assume she doesn't care about anything but we both know she does. It's an act most of the time with her, you know that."

"Oh, I know that. She did seem fairly enamoured with her in the bar… but they saw each other once and had sex, that's not wholly unusual for Santana."

Rachel shrugged, "I just get the feeling she's more bothered about this one than she's letting on."

"Maybe you're right. She'll be fine though, she'll get over it."

* * *

"Rachel! Come on!" Santana shouted across the apartment. She knew she didn't need to shout quite so loudly considering Rachel's 'bedroom' wasn't that far away, "At this rate we won't get to Callbacks until 2020!"

"Why are you so eager to get to Callbacks? You normally complain when we decide to go there…" Kurt pondered aloud.

"No reason. I just want to have some fun."

"So it's got nothing to do with the fact that it's only down the road from the gay bar we went to the other night?"

Santana raised an eyebrow, "Why the hell would that matter to me?"

"Oh no reason… Just, you know, it wouldn't be completely absurd for you to be wondering if Quinn would be there again. It would be rather logical really," Kurt shrugged nonchalantly.

Santana snorted, "Whatever, Porcelain."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. Santana's comebacks were normally of a higher quality so to hear her resorting to the use of 'whatever' caused him to reconsider his earlier conversation with Rachel, "I'm not buying it but ok. Rachel, are you nearly done?"

Rachel pulled back the curtains that surrounded her section of the apartment, "Ta dah!"

Santana rolled her eyes, "Finally. Let's go."

"Are you not even going to comment on my outfit?" Rachel gasped.

"It's far better than any of the shit you wore in high school." Santana sighed as she saw Rachel's face fall, she knew her friend was kidding but she also knew that the quickest way to get her to leave was to pander to her, "You actually look pretty hot, ok Berry? Now, come on."

Rachel smiled, clearly appeased by Santana's compliment, "Ok!"

As they walked through the door to Callbacks Rachel waved at a group of NYADA students. After being in New York for so long, Santana knew most of them pretty well. They had been part of Rachel's NYADA friendship group for a long time now and Kurt and Santana were almost like honorary members. Unlike the others, Santana rarely performed at Callbacks. She had loved being part of Glee at school but she lived in the real world now, not some high school bubble, and she knew that here in New York she was a small fish in a very big pond full of extremely talented people. Besides, she liked singing for herself and not for other people to judge her.

They had already been there for an hour and a half when Rachel stood up to do a solo number. Kurt and Rachel had done a duet together earlier but now Rachel was singing 'Heart Attack' by Demi Lovato on her own. The slow piano version really shouldn't have worked but, as with all of Rachel's song choices, it worked perfectly. Santana much preferred the slower tempo and found herself appreciating the song properly for the first time. Rachel seemed to have a knack for picking out songs, well except for that time she'd performed 'Run Joey Run' in school.

As Rachel finished singing, Santana hopped out of her seat and made her way to the bar. She waited to get the attention of one of the bar staff, contemplating pulling her top down lower to get served quicker. Someone slid into the seat beside her but she barely noticed, her attention focused on the guy behind the bar. She sighed as she got a better look at him. He was clearly gay and was currently serving a really cute (but painfully straight) guy at the other end of the bar and flirting desperately. Showing off her rack was clearly not going to help her at all.

"Getting served can be a pain, huh?" A voice to the side of her said.

Santana glanced across to find a red-headed girl sat next to her, their eyes meeting briefly, "Erm, yeah."

The girl smiled, "I knew your eyes would be ridiculously pretty." Santana glanced back, meeting the girl's eyes properly, "I'm Amber by the way."

 _Lame chat up line but she is pretty cute… I'll forgive her._ "Hi Amber, I'm Santana."

Amber grinned, "What are you drinking?"

"7 and 7."

Amber leaned over the bar, somehow managing to catch the eye of the bartender, "Two 7 and 7's please."

"Thanks," Santana smiled. She looked back at their table and saw Kurt looking at her. He rolled her eyes and she smirked, "So Amber, I haven't seen you at Callbacks before. Me and my friends come here a fair bit."

"Yeah, I'm new to the area. I just moved from Chicago a month ago. I live literally two minutes away so thought I should check this place out, maybe meet some new people."

"Well on behalf of the residents of New York, welcome to the city. Liking it so far?"

Amber smiled, leaning in towards Santana, "I think I am."

"Glad to hear it."

Santana listened as Amber talked about her new job, something to do with property development, although she found her attention drifting. She couldn't help but be reminded of the conversation she had had with Quinn in the bar that night. Unlike the normal conversations she had with girls in bars when she had talked with Quinn she hadn't been bored once, hadn't found herself willing time to pass, hadn't fake-smiled at all. Yet this time here she was, with a perfectly attractive girl, unable to focus on anything she was saying. It wasn't Amber's fault, Santana was sure she was a nice enough girl with interesting stories to tell, but Santana's head just didn't feel like it was in the right place. Santana shook it off, her ears tuning into Amber's voice again.

"-so yeah, it's been really interesting."

Santana smiled, nodding.  _I have no idea what she's just said._  "Well that's good."

"How about you? How long have you been in New York?"

"Oh, I've lived here for 3 years now with my friends Rachel and Kurt. We all went to school together."

"And what do you do?" Amber smiled genuinely.

 _God, I hate question and answer sessions…_ "I work at a bar at the moment. Nothing too glamorous. It's not what I moved to New York to do but it's ok."

"What did you move to New York to do then?"

Santana paused, "I don't really know… Still trying to figure that out. But until I do, I'm ok with what I have." As she spoke, her own words replayed in her mind.  _Am I ok with what I have? I hate my job and I'm not sure quitting and finding another mind-numbing replacement will cut it this time. I'm not 18 anymore, I'm 21. God, I'm almost 22._ Out of the corner of her eye Santana saw Rachel waving at her. She rolled her eyes before turning back to face Amber, "That's my friend Rachel. I'm warning you she'll probably come over here now…"

"Santana!" Rachel chimed, "We're thinking about moving on to Daniel's place; his roommates are away so he's got the place to himself. Would you like to come along?"

Santana contemplated her options. She could go to Daniel's and quite possibly get a bit bored of listening to NYADA story after NYADA story, alternatively she could go home, or she could stay with Amber. She ruled out option one immediately, "I'm good, but thanks."

"Ok, who is your new found acquaintance?" Rachel asked, smiling sweetly.

"My name's Amber," Amber said, giving a small wave.

"Well it was a pleasure to meet you Amber. See you back at home, Santana!" Rachel said, wandering back to their group of friends.

"So, Santana," Amber began, "if you're not going with your friends, what are you going to do?"

Santana lifted her glass, finishing off the last of her drink, "I have a couple of ideas for plans so it depends."

"On?"

"A few things," Santana said simply.

"If I suggested we take this back to my place could that be one of your potential plans?" Amber said, leaning in towards Santana so that they were mere inches away from each other.

"I'd say it definitely could be."

Amber bit her lip before draining her own glass. As she put the glass down on the bar, she looked back at Santana, "Let's get out of here."

Santana followed her out of the bar. They turned left, walking past the gay bar that Santana and Kurt had visited earlier in the week. As they passed, Santana saw three girls standing outside. She found herself glancing back, and she immediately stopped dead in her tracks. In the darkness she could make out a blonde girl who looked an awful lot like Quinn. Amber paused, noticing Santana had stopped. The blonde girl turned around, allowing Santana to see her face properly, and she felt her stomach drop as she realised the girl was not Quinn at all. In fact, she looked nothing like her. For a start, she wasn't nearly as hot.

_Fuck. Why do I even care? I've got a cute girl here who obviously wants to jump my bones but I can't stop thinking about Quinn. This is absurd. So she gave me the wrong number… big deal! I shouldn't even care._

"Are you ok?" Amber looked confused.

 _No._ "Yeah, sorry. I thought I saw someone I knew but I was wrong."

Amber smiled, looking slightly relieved, "Happens to us all."

"Sure does," Santana said absent-mindedly. She didn't understand what was happening to her. Quinn wasn't the first girl she had had a one night stand with, but she certainly was the first girl in a long time that had made her feel like this.

Amber hadn't been lying when she said she lived close by. Before Santana knew it the redhead had stopped and was unlocking the main door to her building. She turned around and grinned at Santana as the door swung open. As Santana stepped into the building Amber grabbed her shirt and pulled her close, pressing their lips together urgently. Regardless of the fact that they were still in the entrance to the building, Amber pushed Santana backwards so she was pressed up against the wall. Amber's mouth was all over hers and Santana gently bit Amber's bottom lip and grinned softly as the girl moaned. Pushing thoughts of Quinn to the back of her mind, Santana decided to lose herself in the kiss and she quickly spun around pinning Amber against the wall with her hands, regaining control of the situation. But it was no use. Memories of the previous night swam around in her head and all she could think of was how much she wished the girl in front of her was Quinn. She kissed Amber harder, her tongue expertly slipping into Amber's mouth, hoping that she could force the thoughts from her head. It was pointless.

All she could think of was the way that Quinn had kissed her and how that had made her feel.

All she could hear was Quinn's soft moans as she ran her fingernails down her spine.

All she could see was those eyes, piercing hers as she screamed her name.

But worst of all, all she could feel were the unwelcome butterflies that Quinn had made her feel. A feeling that she hadn't felt for a long time…

She pulled away abruptly, catching her breath. Amber looked at her in confusion, completely unaware of why their kiss had ended so suddenly. Santana looked up, guilt filling her. She was angry, confused and scared and the fact she was slightly drunk certainly wasn't helping. Everything felt like it was consuming her and it was as though her conflicted feelings were suffocating her, stopping the air from reaching her lungs, and there was nothing she could do.

"I'm sorry… I… I can't." She stuttered, breaking eye contact with Amber. She rushed towards the door, blurting out another apology as she left, "I'm really sorry."

She got outside and the cold air slammed into her. Walking quickly back in the direction of the bar, she took several big gulps of air in the hope that the tight feeling spreading across her chest would begin to ease. As she reached the entrance of the bar she saw the three girls who they had passed only moments ago were all still there.  _What the fuck am I even doing?! This is crazy. She's not going to be here._ Santana sighed, leaning on the wall against the bar.  _What the hell just happened to me?! Fuck. How can one night make me feel this? Screw it, I need to see if Quinn is in here again._

She took one last gulp of air, shuddering slightly as the cold air spread through her lungs. She knew she was being ridiculous but she had to see if Quinn was in the bar for a second time. The place was packed which was definitely not working in Santana's favour but she navigated the venue with ease due to her familiarity with it, her eyes expertly scanning the crowd for any sign of Quinn. After searching for 20 minutes she admitted defeat, slumping down on a stool at the bar and ordering a drink. She downed it, barely even blinking as the liquid slipped down her throat leaving a slight burning sensation. She stood up quickly and walked out of the bar and back into the night.

She slid the door open to their empty apartment. She knew both Kurt and Rachel would be at Daniel's until the early hours of the morning at least, possibly even staying the night there. She sighed, throwing her jacket onto the sofa, and grabbed a beer from the fridge. She didn't particularly like beer but she knew that they'd already drained their supply of vodka a while ago and no-one had replaced it, so she didn't have a whole lot of choice. Beer was the only thing left in the house, bought by Rachel's last boyfriend before they had split up. Collapsing on the sofa, she took a large swig from the bottle grimacing at the bitter taste that it left in her mouth.

Santana hadn't allowed herself to get emotionally attached to anyone since Brittany. Brittany had been her high school girlfriend, her first love and their break up had torn her apart. Since then she had vowed that she didn't want to get involved with anyone. As far as she was concerned, it simply wasn't worth the pain that would inevitably come. So for 3 years she had gone from random hook up to random hook up, never allowing herself to care enough about any of them. Until now.

She didn't want to care that Quinn had given her a fake number. She didn't want to keep replaying their night over in her mind. She didn't want to keep seeing her face every time she closed her eyes. But it was pointless. Quinn had made her feel something and Santana couldn't deny it, but clearly Quinn hadn't felt the same way at all. That much was evident by the incorrect phone number that was still in Santana's phone.

Santana finished the beer, leaving the empty bottle on the table as she grabbed another from the fridge. Silence filled the space around her. The only sound she could hear was Rachel's clock ticking softly, its rhythm steady and predictable. Sleep was far away and she knew it. Taking another gulp of beer she groaned, she had a feeling tonight was going to be a long night.


	3. Mission Impossible

"Fuck, Santana!" Kurt gasped, taking in the sight of their living area, "Are you kidding me?!"

Santana groaned, rubbing her eyes as Kurt's loud arrival woke her up, "Sshh."

"I will not!" Kurt exclaimed, his hands on his hips, "Santana! What the hell happened last night?"

Santana moaned, "Please, Kurt… Turn down the volume. What time is it?"

"1pm." Kurt said, his voice short, "I am getting really fed up of coming home to this, Santana. God, you need to get a grip."

"Kurt, leave her a minute. Why don't you go shower?" Rachel suggested, for once her voice much quieter than Kurt's. Kurt shrugged and entered the bathroom, scowling before he closed the door.

"You didn't need to send him away. I can give as good as I get." Santana muttered.

"I'm well aware of your uncanny ability to hide behind scathing words designed to pick on people's insecurities," Rachel said with a straight face, her voice deadpan, "I have known you for several years now."

"I don't hide behind anything."

Rachel sighed, "Just talk to me, Santana."

Santana stood up, walking into the kitchen and filling a glass with water, "There's nothing to talk about."

"I want to help you and I can't do that if you won't talk. There must be a reason why you've been living off alcohol for the past week."

"There's plenty of fucking reasons. Firstly, living with you and the Lord of the Gays. I mean, when can I even take a fucking shower if you two practically live in it? It's getting ridiculous. Not to mention the fact that your combined movie collection only contains musicals and bad Ryan Reynolds films. If I have to watch 'Just Friends' one more time I'm going to slit my wrists." The words spat out of Santana's mouth like venom, the only reprieve in her tirade arrived when she swallowed two painkillers.

Rachel took this brief pause as her opportunity to respond. She inhaled deeply, calming herself down in an attempt to not rise to Santana's bait, "I know what you're doing and it won't work. I'm your friend, let me help you."

"I don't want any fucking help, Rachel. Ok? My life sucks. What the hell do you think you can do about that?" Santana slammed the glass down on the side of the counter.

"What the hell has caused this? I don't understand, Santana. What's changed?"

"Nothing. Nothing has changed and that's the problem. I'm going to be 22 soon and I'm still here, doing a job I hate with no clue what it is that I want to do with my life. I'm supposed to have achieved something by now. Mercedes is recording her first album, Mike runs a dance school, you're well on your way to becoming a Broadway star and we all know it, Kurt is going to be promoted soon. Even Sam is doing more with his life than I am... Sam fucking Evans with his ridiculous trouty mouth."

Rachel looked at Santana sympathetically, "We can look at options. Kurt and I will help you figure out what you want to do, you know we will."

Santana's expression hardened, "Whatever. I'm fine."

"Santana, don't do this."

"Do what? I'm fine, Berry. Look next time I'll do my drinking in a bar so you won't have to worry about the freakin' upholstery." Santana downed another glass of water and headed over to her bed.

"You know we'd much rather you were passed out here than in some random bar, or worse," Rachel pleaded, "We love you."

"Oh well that just fixes abso-fucking-lutely everything, doesn't it? Now my life is all rainbows and kittens." Santana said sarcastically, drawing the curtains around her bed, "Now excuse me, I need sleep."

Rachel stood, frozen to the spot. It was like something in Santana had snapped and she had no idea why. Something must have been the catalyst, after all a change like this couldn't come about so dramatically without a reason. She frowned, deep in contemplation. It was not hidden knowledge that Santana was fiery, she had countless memories of her going all Lima Heights on most of their classmates at high school, but this was different. However, one thing Rachel had learned about Santana over the years was that she was the type of person that often needed space in order to get rid of the majority of her anger before she was ready to talk about it. Rachel sighed, clearly Santana wasn't ready to talk yet but Rachel knew that soon she would be and when that happened she was going to make sure that she was there.

* * *

Santana woke up, not for the first time that week, with a splitting headache. She wasn't sure exactly why she continued to think that drinking was a good idea, but when it got to the end of her shifts at the bar it somehow always seemed like a fantastic plan. Santana wasn't stupid. She knew full well that during the last few weeks she had been using alcohol as an avoidance technique, and she had to admit it was a pretty well-perfected technique. In the past she would have alternated between alcohol and hot girls to get her through the rough patches of life, but thanks to Quinn the only thing left in her utility belt of distractions was alcohol.

Santana knew that Quinn was just a girl, another random hook up, and whilst she had allowed herself to admit (only to herself) that Quinn  _had_ been different to all the others, it still didn't explain why she was feeling so crap about her life. She had thought about it a lot over the past two weeks and she felt like she had come to some sort of conclusion. Yes, Quinn's number being wrong had upset her. Yes, she sort of felt like she might like Quinn. Yes, she would have liked to see Quinn again. Yes, thoughts of Quinn were constantly in her mind. But as well as all of that, the problem was that Quinn herself had made Santana rethink her life. Santana had thought for so long that she didn't want to have proper feelings for a girl, not since Brittany anyway, and that she didn't want anything more than casual fun, but then Quinn had rocked up.

Quinn… With her stupidly endearing smile, her annoyingly stunning eyes and her hot as hell smirks. Yep, Quinn had made Santana want  _more._ And it was that realisation, that understanding of what  _more_ might be like, that had shook Santana's world.

You see, for so long Santana had been (sort of) content to live in New York, working whatever job she could find whilst having a great time living her life to the full on her days off. But somehow, more than it ever had before, it didn't feel like it was enough anymore. It was as though all these feelings of frustration and anger over her life had been hidden deep within her, only occasionally threatening to break the surface yet never quite making it, but Quinn had set them free. Now they had well and truly broken the surface and they had reared their ugly heads and Santana couldn't make them go away.

Quinn Fabray was a catalyst. A stupidly attractive catalyst that had made Santana realise that her life wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want to work in a bar. She didn't want to feel like she was going nowhere with her life. And most importantly, she didn't want to just hook up with random girls.

More. That was what she wanted, but she wished she didn't.

So instead she drank because that was far easier than admitting that she wasn't happy with what she had. It was also much simpler than trying to understand how the hell she could get more. How exactly do you get more anyway? It's not like you can just go into Walmart and ask the nearest worker, "Excuse me, in which aisle can I find 'more'?" No. 'More' wasn't something Santana had the vaguest clue how to obtain, and quite frankly her realisation that she might want it wasn't a welcome one.

Santana knew she couldn't carry on like this forever. It was inevitable that at some point she was going to have to drag herself out of her funk and get on with her life, but at the moment that seemed too complicated.

Santana woke up and groaned, checking the time on her phone.

3pm on a Sunday. Little did Santana know that it would be that Sunday afternoon that she would finally break…

 _Eurgh. I feel like something someone stepped on in the street…_ She rubbed her eyes before grabbing the bottle of water she'd put by her bed, downing half of it in a couple of gulps. The water didn't do much to eradicate the pounding in her head. As she adjusted to the world around her she heard the quiet chatter of voices coming from the living room, along with the muffled sound of the TV on a low volume. Kurt and Rachel were clearly in the apartment and from what she could hear over the sound of whatever TV show they were half-watching, their conversation sounded like a serious one. Santana sighed, serious conversations had definitely not been part of her plan for the day but she knew she couldn't stay cooped up in her 'bedroom' forever.

Pulling back the curtains that divided her section of the apartment from the main living space she saw Kurt and Rachel's heads turn in her direction. Kurt glanced at her, glaring briefly before turning back. Their friendship hadn't exactly been strong over the last few weeks. Rachel smiled slightly, giving a small wave as she did so. Santana waved half-heartedly back. Judging by the look on Kurt's face she guessed that she had been their topic of conversation, yet again. Santana was getting a little fed up of Kurt's judgemental looks. After all, it wasn't like he always made great life choices. She sighed under her breath once more and quickly walking into the kitchen to make herself a coffee. Kurt glanced over at her quickly before looking at Rachel again, rolling his eyes.

"Got something in your eye there, Hummel?" Santana muttered, sarcasm dripping from her words.

Kurt pursed his lips, clearly holding back the response he had wanted to give. He inhaled sharply before standing up, "I'm going to the store. We need milk. Rachel, do you want anything?"

Rachel looked awkwardly between her two friends, "I'm ok."

"Fine. See you in a bit." Kurt strolled across the apartment silently and within a matter of seconds was out of the door.

"Are you ok? Seems like you had a rough night." Rachel said, fixing her gaze on Santana as the door to their apartment closed.

Santana shrugged, sitting down on the chair opposite Rachel, "I guess."

"Look, what's going on? You know Kurt and I really love you but this is the umpteenth time in the past few weeks that we've come home to find you passed out, bottles littering the apartment. The other times you get home from work and you just ignore us and go straight to your bed. We miss you."

"I'm fine, ok? Drinking just helps me unwind when I've had a long day," Santana lied.

Rachel raised an eyebrow, "I can't help you unless you talk to me. Quite frankly Kurt is getting really pissed off and I'm struggling to keep him in line. This isn't you at all Santana. Drinking alone in our apartment? You're better than that and you know it."

Santana sighed, "I'm fine… I don't want to talk about it."

"Is it Quinn?" Rachel asked, her voice quiet. Clearly she had been afraid to broach the subject.

"What would she have to do with this?"

"Santana, do you think I haven't noticed that this all started since you met her. I have to admit though, if this is to do with her then I don't get it."

Santana relented, maybe talking to Rachel about it wouldn't be so bad, "Neither do I, Rachel. All I know is that I feel shit. Really shit. That night changed something, changed me. Fuck, I don't do feelings or any of that crap but she's got under my skin and I can't get her out. I can't kiss anyone without thinking about her lips instead. I can't walk past a blonde girl without doing a freakin' double take. It's pathetic. And on top of all of that I fucking hate my job. Like, seriously hate it."

"Ok… Well, let's start with Quinn. Why don't you just go and find her, Santana? You know where she lives, right?"

The thought had crossed Santana's mind before, after all she had spent the night at Quinn's place, "Yeah but Rach, that's bordering on psycho stalker. I'm not a bunny boiler. Besides, I don't know how going to her place would help, what am I supposed to say to her? This is all so stupid."

"Look, if seeing her again will help then I'd rather you stalked her than killed your liver and our carpet in one fell swoop," Rachel smiled, "I can help you if you like."

Santana looked at Rachel quizzically, "Help me how?"

"I could check out her place with you. I can even pretend I'm a new neighbour or some rubbish if you want me to. Then you can figure out what to do after you see her. Maybe just seeing her would help? I don't know."

"You'd do that for me? Go all Mission Impossible?" Santana had to admit she was touched with Rachel's offer, "Stop. No, it's stupid. What am I supposed to say if I see her anyway? 'Oh hey there Quinn, it's the girl you had a one night stand with. You gave me a fake number but I decided to be a complete nutter and show up on your doorstep despite the fact that you clearly didn't want to see me again. That's cool though, right?' Yeah, Rach, she'll love that."

"The offer is there. I don't think it's crazy. Besides, the whole phone number thing could have been a genuine mistake. It's so easy to accidentally miss off a digit. If you think you might like her then surely it's worth looking like an idiot?"

Santana sighed, "How can I like her? I barely know her!"

Rachel shrugged, "When you know, you know. You can't control your feelings."

Santana smiled softly. She knew her friends had had to put up with a lot over the last few weeks, "I know I can be a complete bitch sometimes, Rach, but I really do love you."

Rachel smiled, "If someone had told us back in that choir room that we'd be such good friends I think you would've punched them."

"Oh, absolutely!" Santana stood up from the couch, immediately regretting it as her stomach lurched and her head span. She sat back down, groaning, clutching both her head and her stomach, "I definitely just moved too quickly…"

"Painkillers and water?" Rachel asked, heading over to the kitchen.

Santana nodded, "Please. Oh god, Kurt hates me."

"I'll talk to him, don't worry. Now, do you want to talk about your job as well?"

Santana groaned, "Can we tackle one thing at a time?"

"Of course we can. Just promise me you'll stop drinking yourself into oblivion?"

"Deal, Berry." Santana said, and she meant it. She was fed up of feeling sorry for herself. Rachel was right; if she really wanted to talk to Quinn she would just have to make it happen herself. It was in that moment that she decided that she would go to Quinn's apartment. Ok, it might be a completely crazy stalker-style move, but it sure was better than sinking into a perpetual pit of hangovers and headaches.

* * *

Santana looked up at the familiar building in front of her. Her mind flooded with memories of everything that had happened the last time she was here. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her nerves.  _I cannot believe I am about to do this…_

"Thanks for coming with me, Rach."

"It's no problem. I take it this is her building?"

Santana nodded, "Yep. Right, you wait here. I'll be back in a moment."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?" Rachel asked for the tenth time since Santana had outlined her plan.

"Positive."

Santana walked in, taking the stairs two at a time. She reached Quinn's door, her stomach tensed unpleasantly as she imagined the scene that could be about to unfold. There was no doubt about the fact that what she was doing was absolutely 100% crazy. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The buzzer outside the building had been broken so she'd been forced to go for the more personal approach.  _Oh well, if you're going to be a crazy stalker it's better to do it properly I guess._

Santana waited a moment before knocking again. A minute passed and her heart sank as she realised Quinn clearly wasn't in. An old woman opened the door opposite, and looked directly at Santana.

"Are you ok, dear?"

Santana turned around, "Oh, hi there. Yes, I'm just looking for the girl who lives in this apartment, her name's Quinn."

The old woman smiled sadly, "Oh yes, she was lovely. I'm afraid she doesn't live here now, she left New York a few days ago, didn't you know?"

Santana frowned, "No… No I didn't. I don't suppose you know where she went do you?"

"I'm afraid not, dear. Did you know her well?"

"No, not well. But I would have liked to." Santana paused, "Right, well thank you very much for your help."

She walked back down the stairs. As Rachel's eyes met hers she shook her head, "She… erm… doesn't live here anymore. One of her neighbours said she left New York a couple of days ago."

Rachel's eyes widened, "Oh... I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Rach. I guess this just means I really do need to move on. This whole episode has been ridiculous and it's time to forget about it all."

"I really am sorry though."

Santana shrugged and smiled weakly, "I'll get over it."

The two girls walked in silence back down the road. Santana's mind was overwhelmingly full. Since her talk with Rachel a few days ago she had spent a lot of time thinking about her life.

"Rach, I've been thinking… About my job."

Rachel looked up at Santana, "Yeah?"

"It was something Kurt said the other day… He said I need to get a grip. And, you know, he was right. I do." Santana sighed, running her fingers through her dark hair, "This whole thing with Quinn it got me thinking about my life and what I'm doing and I'm just not happy. So I've been thinking about looking into some college programmes. Properly this time. I really hate that I'm going nowhere and I need to figure out what it is I want to do. I've spent too long messing around. Soon you'll graduate from NYADA and Kurt is close to promotion at his job… I need to find what's right for me."

"Ok, that sounds like a good plan."

"Will you help me look at stuff?" Santana asked, her voice unsure. She wasn't exactly the type of person that enjoyed asking for help.

Rachel nodded, "Of course, I'll help you with whatever you want and you know Kurt will too."

"Thank you." Santana took a deep breath before continuing, "Ok then… I guess it's time to grow up."


	4. Au Revoir

**Eight months later**

Santana blinked back tears, "God, when did I become such a sap?!"

The far-too-sterile white walls that surrounded her made her feel a little uneasy for some reason. All around her she could see people in the midst of some of their most intimate moments. Some were joyful, reunited with those they had missed, smiles spreading widely across their faces as they embraced. Others were full of sorrow, bidding farewell for who knew how long, hot tears flooding their eyes. In plain view, all these people were displaying their emotions so openly.

The more she thought about it the more she realised that emotions so intense, shared by so many all at once, really only occurred in airports. It was almost as though airports were a unique type of location where, regardless of the fact that they were crowded and full of people bustling around, you couldn't help but allow such a private, and vulnerable, side of yourself out. Even if you were the type of person who normally kept that side of yourself hidden.

As they arrived at the security gate, the last possible moment to say goodbye, Santana realised she was surrounded by other people bidding sad farewells to friends and family too. They were all wishing to hold off until that last moment, just to have a few more minutes with those they loved. Santana wasn't the type for long drawn-out goodbyes, and luckily she had managed to say most of her goodbyes back home in Ohio. There had been two people that had, however, insisted on accompanying her to the airport.

She turned to face her two best friends who were both already crying and her stomach pulled uncomfortably with a pang of sadness.

The barriers in front of her were making everything seem far too real.

_This is actually happening…_

Even though she'd begun making these plans months ago, now that the first step was about to happen she couldn't help but feel apprehensive.

"I can't believe you're actually doing this," Kurt said, "When you first told us I think we both thought you were a little crazy."

Santana laughed softly, "Oh I remember your reactions. You both looked like you were about to have a heart attack, in particular I remember Berry being rather upset."

Rachel looked at the floor, "You know I have very specific allergies… The apartment was very dusty that day…"

* * *

**_Six months ago_ **

_"Ok, here's what we're going to do…" Kurt began._

_"We've devised a method that we think will enable us to work out the kind of course you might be suited to," Rachel intervened._

_"Erm… Do I need to be scared?" Santana said, hesitantly._

_"No! Of course not. Kurt, maybe you should explain?"_

_"Whoa, Barbra, back it up a sec. Did you just turn down an opportunity to talk?" Santana looked around the room, somewhat confused, "Did hell just freeze over?"_ _  
_

_Rachel rolled her eyes, "After goodness knows how many years of friendship you would think that you could just call me by my actual name."_

_"Wait… We're friends? Shit. I missed that memo," Santana joked, winking at Rachel in jest._

_Kurt laughed, "Oh be quiet, Santana. One of these days you'll actually hurt her feelings. Right, so here's what we're going to do. Instead of focusing on the course, we're going to focus on you."_

_"Oooh!" Santana smiled gleefully, "I like the sound of that!"_

_"So, we're going to talk about your personality and see if we can use that information to figure out which course fits with you best."_

_"This sounds like some kinda weird version of a dating website. Like you're going to hook me up with my perfect match." Santana thought about it for a moment, "But I guess it does mean we just get to talk about me and all my amazing qualities so I'll go with it. Let's start with discussing how hot I am."_

_"Not to mention the fact that you're obviously incredibly modest," Rachel said sarcastically._

_"It's one of my best qualities," Santana nodded seriously, "Maybe I should run masterclasses in modesty?"_

_"You're an idiot sometimes," Kurt muttered._

_"You're just jealous, Kurtypoos." Santana grinned, "Alright, so we know I'm modest, ridiculously attractive and obviously hilarious."_

_Kurt interrupted, "You're feisty, loud and bossy-"_

_"Hey!" Santana said, glaring._

_"You refuse to listen to others, love to be in charge and you're a bit of a control freak," Rachel added._

_"What?! I am not a control freak! I'm not the one that has her movie collection arranged alphabetically, Berry!"_

_"And by genre," Rachel reminded her, "That part of my organisational system really is vital. Merely organising them alphabetically would not be nearly as effective."_

_Kurt nodded, "She's right, you are a control freak. But it's in a different way."_

_"I am not." Santana insisted, "Guys, this whole 'listing-my-qualities' malarkey isn't exactly making me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Which is confusing because let's face it, I've gots all the best qualities."_

_Kurt chipped in, "You're a hands-on type of person, so you definitely need a course that allows you to engage in a practical way, rather than a book-ish way."_

_"You're very creative. I mean, you loved being in glee club despite pretending you hated it and I think you need to find something that gives you an outlet for that creativity," Rachel added._

_Kurt spoke again now, the conversation being batted between Rachel and Kurt like a ping-pong ball, "You're insightful, and despite your uncanny ability to come up with hurtful nicknames you are actually really kind and sweet."_

_Rachel nodded, "But your brutal honesty means that your advice can always be trusted. I know you won't mince your words when you give me advice and sometimes even I need that."_

_"So what, I should be a counsellor or some shit? I ain't the Pillsbury type." Santana rolled her eyes, "Guys, I appreciate you trying but I'm really not sure this is helping."_

_"Do you want to pursue performing arts in some way, Santana? Or do you want something new? Because you're a very creative person and you're full of all this… passion," Kurt asked._

_"Look, I love music, I really do but I'm not Rachel. I'm not the NYADA type. No offence but I'm not interested in Broadway or any of that shit."_

_Rachel shrugged, "No offence taken. I really do think you've got a limited view of what performing arts entails though, probably because you've only seen what I do. NYADA is just one college and just because my voice is my most precious instrument it doesn't mean that singing is everyone's focus. There are lots of different focuses that people have. I do lots of other things at NYADA too. Maybe you should go look at some stuff at Tisch? They have some great performing arts courses and it's not too far away at all."_

_Santana hesitated. Something had been on her mind for a long time and it was time to set it free, "That's the thing… I've been thinking about it and I don't want to look at Tisch."_

_"Ok," Kurt said, looking at Santana with curiosity as he picked up on the change in her tone of voice, "You don't have to look at Tisch."_

_Santana sighed, she had come to the realisation a while ago that New York wasn't the perfect fit for her anymore. So far she had put off telling her friends, mostly because she was scared of their reactions. She loved living with them, but after being in New York for so long she had begun to get an itch… An itch to escape. And unfortunately she knew it wasn't the type of itch she could ignore. Not anymore._

_"You see…" Santana paused, "I think I need to leave New York."_

_Kurt and Rachel's eyes both widened. Kurt was first to speak, a single syllable leaving his lips, "Oh."_

_"I just… It hasn't felt right for a while. There's always been this part of me that's wanted to escape and see more places and I think this might be my chance to do it. So… I was thinking of looking at courses somewhere else. Y'know… Two birds, one stone. I know the course is important, and I need to pick the right thing for me. But I know that for me the location is important too. It's like a package deal or something. A chance for me to, I don't know, find myself or something. God, that sounded ridiculous._ _"_

_Rachel smiled sadly, "I can understand your reasoning. So, where were you thinking of instead? How about California? I can see you in California somehow."_

_"Well, actually… I don't really see myself so close to home."_

_Kurt looked at her confused, "What do you mean? California is miles away from here, Santana."_

_"Yeah… I know. Except I was thinking about looking for a course somewhere a bit further away than that…" She paused, "Like… Europe."_

_"Europe?!" Rachel shrieked._

_"God, Rach. I think only dogs heard that." Santana said softly, her usual harsh tone had disappeared as she regarded her friends with hesitation, "Yeah, Europe. I've always wanted to see more of the world and I figured… Why not do that and study all at the same time? One of my aunts has a place in France."_

_"You want to study in France?! Do you even speak French?" Kurt asked, looking at her sceptically._

_Santana laughed, "I speak a little bit. We used to go on holiday there a bit when I was younger. I'm full of surprises. But, no, I don't want to do all my studying there. I thought I could maybe study in England. I kinda like that idea. And then maybe this summer I could spend a bit of time in France before. Maybe travel around a bit and see my aunt before my course starts… whatever course I end up taking."_

_Rachel was silent, something that neither Santana nor Kurt were used to seeing. It was Kurt that broke the silence around them first, "Well, I think if that's what you want to do then we should start trying to find you the perfect course for your chosen destination, Santana. Although I think I speak for both of us when I say that we'll miss you. This place won't be the same without you. I mean, it'll be far tidier for a start…"_

_Santana looked over at Rachel, "You ok, short stack?"_

_Rachel let out a small laugh before looking up to meet Santana's gaze. Rachel's eyes were filled with sadness, "Yeah. I guess it's been the three of us for so long…"_

_"The three musketeers?" Santana said, smirking._

_"We'd make rubbish musketeers," Kurt chimed in, grinning, "Rachel would refuse to kill anyone on the grounds of it being mean and against her vegan beliefs, even if it was in self-defence."_

_"And you, Kurt, would refuse because you might get blood on your clothing," Rachel quipped, allowing a small smile to spread across her face._

_"Luckily for us, Santana could go all Lima Heights on their asses while we stood back and did nothing," Kurt pointed out._

_"Lima Heights Adjacent, Porcelain. The adjacent is important, y'know." Santana laughed, "Oh and Kurt, I think you were right."_

_"I'm always right," Kurt said with a smug grin, "But what was I right about this time?"_

_"About performing arts. But… I think I need to explore it a bit more. Figure out which bit of it is for me."_

_Kurt nodded, and Rachel smiled at her friend, "And we'll be there every step of the way to help you figure it out. Maybe I can bring you in with me at NYADA and you can try out some things, talk to people. See if any of it appeals to you."_

_Santana smiled, "That sounds good."_

_Kurt reached down to grab his coffee cup from the table and held it up as though he was saying a toast, "To Europe?"_

_"To Europe," Rachel repeated._

* * *

Rachel smiled, "You know, even though we're both really sad to see you go we're both really proud of you."

"Oh god, don't start with that! I'm already crying!"

Rachel leapt forward, enveloping Santana in a large hug, "I don't care, we really are proud of you. You've figured out what you want to do and you're getting out there and doing it. You're so brave."

Santana shrugged, "I guess. I couldn't have done it without you guys though. Thank you so much for the past 3 years. I was far from easy to live with but you always stuck by me."

"That's what friends do. Besides it's not like either of us are easy to live with either," Kurt smiled sadly, "Promise to visit?"

"I hate to admit it, but I'll miss you guys too much to stay away the whole time." Santana hugged them both once more, "Right I really have to go now."

"Ring when you land?" Rachel asked, her voice thick from crying.

"Promise, Mom." Santana rolled her eyes before wiping them. Her teeth bit her bottom lip nervously, "I guess I'll see you later."

"Europe has no idea what's about to hit it," Kurt grinned.

* * *

As the train pulled into Paris, Santana couldn't help but grin. Every nerve in her body was tingling with anticipation. This was it. Her adventure was about to begin. She was about to spend almost a month travelling wherever she wanted to in France, stopping in at some point to see her aunt.

She knew she wasn't exactly the type to shy away from being spontaneous, or living in the moment, but even she had to admit that this was a new one even for her. Here she was, thousands of miles from home, and she couldn't have been more excited.

For so long her life had felt as though her life had been getting stagnant, and she couldn't help but feel that she had just breathed new life into it.

After she had announced her wish to go to Europe to Kurt and Rachel, the three of them had spent a lot of time researching different courses and universities in various areas. Rachel had done exactly as she had said and had taken Santana into NYADA to talk to some of her lecturers about the various aspects of performing arts. After taking some night classes (and actually taking them seriously this time), Santana had realised exactly what it was that she wanted to do.

She wanted to dance.

She had taken ballet classes when she was a little girl but somehow, as she had grown up, the lessons had stopped and the joy that she got when she danced had faded, forgotten and lost. It hadn't disappeared completely though. No, it was more as though it had remained hidden at the back of her mind, waiting patiently for her to remember. To remember the feeling of freedom she felt when her limbs moved effortlessly in time to the music. To remember the way that the beat of the music seemed to fill her every bone, almost as though she  _was_  the music. Those feelings had all come back to her, like a flood of memories that had almost overwhelmed her. So it was then that she had decided that her future was dancing. After all, if it made her happy then it seemed a good place to start.

So the three of them had searched until one day Santana had stumbled across the perfect course for her. It was at a small, but well-established and respected, university near London. It offered a mixture of performing arts courses, where modules could be hand-picked by the student to create an almost tailor made course. Sure, she'd have to take a few compulsory classes in singing and acting, but if she wished to she could make the majority of her degree focused on different aspects of dance rather than anything else. It really would be her choice. The balance was one she was excited about. It would allow her to gain experience in several areas, whilst letting her explore dance more deeply.

The best part of it, however, was that she could also select modules to take abroad if she wanted to. This would allow her to study for a term at a time, for a maximum of one year, in another country as part of her course. The list of possible locations was comprehensive; they had partnerships with universities in Spain, Portugal, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, China… The list went on and on.

It all seemed so perfect. She had nearly a month travelling in France, followed by her beginning her studying in London, and wherever else she chose to go.

As Santana disembarked the train, she grinned, thinking about how different her life had been almost a year ago.

She walked through the streets of Paris, her eyes struggling to take in everything she was seeing. She wandered down winding side streets, with no idea of where exactly they were leading her. And she didn't care in the slightest. Right now she wanted to explore and discover areas for herself. The time for planning could come later. After a short while, despite her excitement, she could feel her eyes drooping slightly.

_Damn jetlag. I need a coffee._

She tugged at her bag, the pop-out wheels getting stuck amongst the rough stones of the street as she attempted to pull it up onto the sidewalk.

She stood at the crossroads and to her right could see what looked like the most adorable café in the world. A smile spread across her face as she headed towards it. It was set on a corner, with a scattering of black ornate metal tables outside. A French waiter greeted her and she sat down, ordering herself a strong coffee and a croissant (after all, she was in France so surely she had to eat a croissant. Even if it was a huge stereotype, it was a delicious one so who cared?)

The waiter swiftly returned with her order and she thanked him. She looked around her, marvelling at all the details of the streets that surrounded her, tearing a chunk of her croissant off as she did so.

_Why is everything so damn pretty here?_

"Santana?"

Santana's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a soft voice coming from behind her. It took her a moment to snap out of it and turn around to see who was there.

There were a lot of sights she expected to see while in Paris: the Louvre, Arc de Triomphe, Eiffel tower, Notre-Dame, Moulin Rouge... The list was long.

But as Santana turned around she was met with a sight that she had certainly not bargained on finding in Paris, or in fact anywhere.

Their eyes met, and Santana's words froze in her mouth, the shock of the situation causing them to lodge uncomfortably in her throat. The ripples of electricity that she had felt coursing through her veins the first night they had met returned, just as strong as they had been before. They were so intense that they were almost enough to make Santana want to run as far away as she could.

This was the girl that had somehow turned her life upside down after just one night. The girl that had, however unintentionally, made her re-evaluate herself and her future and had caused her to realise she needed more from life. The girl that was sort of the reason she was even in Paris. The girl that had managed to make Santana feel things she had never thought she would feel again...

But this was also the girl that had given her a fake number, something which had torn at Santana's insides for months even though, in reality, she had barely known the girl. Santana knew that the whole situation had been illogical, but yet her feelings about it all had been completely undeniable.

After a moment she managed to splutter out one short word, her voice unsteady, "Quinn?"

Quinn's hazel eyes gazed into hers and Santana felt her stomach tense involuntarily, the motion sudden and violent inside her.

_Fuck._

Their eyes were locked and Santana wasn't sure she could look away, even if she wanted to. Her earlier thought returned to her, suddenly the meaning not quite as simple as before.

_Why is everything so damn pretty here?_

* * *


	5. The Sound of Inevitability

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck. Oh god. I'm in shitting France and Quinn is here and why is my brain going into total meltdown?! Shit. Just breathe. It's not a big deal._

"Erm… Hi, Quinn," Santana stuttered her words out, inwardly cringing at herself.

"Hi, Santana."

_Oh I forgot how hot her voice is. This is bad. This is really bad. Where's Rachel when I need her?! Oh yeah, a gazillion miles away with all your other friends. Smart move, Santana._

"So, you're in France?" Quinn asked, her voice seemed so calm and collected that it only made Santana feel even more like she was losing all sense of control.

Santana nodded slowly, "Yep. Here I am… In France. And, apparently so are you."

A question lingered on the tip of her tongue but before she had a chance to say it, Quinn had verbalised it herself.

"So what are you doing here?" Hazel eyes met hers, and Santana could tell that Quinn wasn't just making small talk. It seemed she genuinely wanted to know what Santana was doing in Paris. For some reason, this shook Santana up even more.

"Traveling, well for now anyway. I'm starting studying in September in the UK."

Quinn flashed a smile at her, and Santana's insides seemed to instantaneously turn to jelly, "Santana that's fantastic! I remember you saying that you wanted to get out of New York, and it looks like you did it. That's great. You must be excited."

Santana nodded, trying desperately to focus on the words that were pouring from Quinn's mouth. Instead though she found herself remembering the night she and Quinn had met.

She had played through the events so many times in her head that she was sure she could have re-enacted the whole scene word for word. So many times she had given herself a hard time for not realising sooner than Quinn was more than just another girl in her list of random hook ups. Looking back on it, it had been painfully obvious that things with Quinn had been different. Sure it had only been one night, but during that one night Santana had broken so many of her rules that the list had practically been thrown out of the window from the moment Quinn's eyes had locked onto hers at the bar.

When Santana hooked up with girls she didn't normally waste too much time talking about herself, and if she did then she certainly didn't get all deep and meaningful about anything. But with Quinn she had found herself spilling out thoughts that were so private she hadn't even told Kurt and Rachel all of them. That had been the first rule she'd broken that night.

Secondly, Santana had allowed herself to get interested in Quinn and her life. She had listened to her stories and had found herself fascinated by every detail that the blonde had thrown her way. It wasn't that Santana didn't like to get to know people, but in her experience she had found it was much better to keep it simple. Simple and purely physical. More than that just tended to overcomplicated matters.

And finally, and perhaps most importantly, she had broken her most fundamental rule: Never get the girl's number. She'd tried the whole 'friends with benefits' thing before, and it never seemed to work. People got over-involved and somebody always got hurt.

However, in Quinn's case she hadn't actually gotten her number after all, despite her initial intentions.

Silence hung between them, awkward and heavy. Santana could feel questions bubbling up inside her. There were so many things she wanted to ask Quinn but what was the point? It had been months since their encounter and it wasn't Quinn's fault she had gotten stupidly over attached after they'd had sex. It also wasn't Quinn's fault that she had made her reassess her life. Plus, it certainly wasn't Quinn's fault that Santana had felt such a strong connection between the two of them, a feeling that clearly hadn't been reciprocated.

Within the few short seconds that passed in silence, Santana mentally chastised herself about a hundred times for feeling so ridiculously overwhelmed by Quinn's sudden presence. No doubt Quinn was picking up on her crazy vibes, which was definitely not cool with Santana. She attempted to shake it all off. After all Quinn had approached her to say hi, something which she hadn't needed to do. Besides, surely it would be nice to know someone while she was in Paris and talking for a little while couldn't hurt.

"Yeah…" Santana began, shaking off her thoughts and putting all her focus into maintaining a semi-decent conversation with Quinn, "Yeah, I am. I'm going to be studying dance and I can't wait. It's long overdue but I feel like I'm finally doing something I want to do, not something I've been forced into. What about you?"

"I moved here a few months ago. I just woke up one day and I knew my job wasn't making me happy and well… It's sort of embarrassing but actually some of the things you said the night we met made me decide to make a change."

Santana raised an eyebrow, "They did?"

"Yeah," Quinn blushed slightly and Santana tried, yet failed miserably, to not notice how adorable the blonde looked, "You talked about wanting to make a change in your life and knowing you weren't happy and it got me thinking about what I was doing and I started questioning if I was really happy. I love doing my own writing, but working at that newspaper was draining me of any enjoyment I got out of writing in the first place. I mean, I know I should feel lucky that I even got that opportunity but writing reviews about films and books isn't what I want to do…" She paused, clearly not finished with her story, looking up at Santana briefly as though she was worried she'd been talking for an unacceptable length of time.

It was in that moment that Santana decided that bumping into Quinn didn't need to turn into something negative. A small part of her still wanted to go all crazy and question Quinn about everything that had happened in New York, but then it occurred to her that none of it mattered now. What had happened had happened and she didn't need to make it into a big deal, nor did it need to stop her making friends with the only person (apart from her aunt) that she knew in the whole of Europe. The whole situation was sort of crazy, and Santana adding her own kind of crazy into the mix certainly couldn't be beneficial.

_God, am I growing up? Fuck, Rachel and Kurt would have a heart attack if they could see me right now, being all sensible and controlled. After this I'll need to find someone to insult, I can feel my soul fading away…_

Santana smiled and gestured towards the empty chair at her table for two, "Why don't you finish your story sitting down, Agatha?"

"Erm… thanks." Quinn looked at her, clearly surprised. Santana wasn't sure if it was due to her offer for Quinn to join her, or her use of the fake name she had given her that night in the bar, "My boss called me into his office and said the reviews were going alright but that I needed an 'edge'. And I stood there and I just thought, I don't want an edge, y'know? I don't want to be a bitchy reviewer or be someone I'm not. So, I quit."

"Just like that?" Santana asked, finding herself increasingly enthralled by Quinn's story.

"Yeah. It was kind of stupid at the time because I didn't even think it through at all but I knew I just couldn't work there anymore. Your words were in my head, which again I have to say is really embarrassing, and I just thought 'screw it', so I quit. I knew I needed to get out of New York so I decided to go see my cousin, Lucy, who lives in Chicago, for a bit. Then… well, one day I woke up and, erm, got a phone call that my father had passed away-"

"Shit, Quinn. I'm so sorry."

Quinn shrugged, "He was a bit of a bastard to be honest. I mean, he practically disowned me when I was 18 because I didn't want to go study what he wanted me to at college. He's my father, so you know of course I care in some way, but he was never really a proper dad to me if you know what I mean. We hadn't talked for nearly 3 years." Quinn paused, "Sorry to get all heavy. I didn't mean to."

"No, that's ok. I don't mind," Santana smiled.

"Well, I guess he thought leaving me a shitload of money would make up for being a terrible father because that's what he did. So I decided to use it to go traveling and spend some time writing. I went to Italy for a couple of months and then I came to France. I've been here for a couple of weeks so far."

"I'd love to go to Italy. I'd love to travel everywhere but y'know… money."

Quinn nodded, "Yeah, I know. I've wanted to just get away and explore for so long but I never could before. It's been great, plus I've written more of my own stuff in the past couple of months than I had in the last year in New York." Quinn looked up, briefly gripping her bottom lip between her teeth, "What about you? What spurred the drastic relocation?"

"Erm… Well actually, it was… you," Santana cleared her throat, avoiding eye contact with Quinn. She certainly wasn't about to launch into a vivid description of the past 9 months. She was fairly sure telling Quinn that thanks to her she had been drinking herself into oblivion could be conceived as more than a little creepy, and definitely pathetic. Even after all these months Santana still didn't understand how one night could have changed her life so much, but there was no denying that it had, "I guess it was similar to you. You made me think about things and before that I hadn't really wanted to admit I was unhappy doing what I was doing. You were sort of a catalyst."

"Well I don't think I would've quit my job like that if I hadn't have met you." Quinn giggled, "So, we're both sort of the reason that the other is here?"

"I guess so!" Santana nodded slowly, "This is kind of really weird, right?"

"Oh yeah, absolutely, but it's also sort of great," Quinn grinned, "So how long are you in Paris for?"

"Well, I don't really know. My aunt lives nearby so I'll see her at some point. I basically have three weeks until I have to go to the UK so I figured I'd just make it up as I went along."

"I like it. So, I'm assuming from that bag you're lugging around that you've only just got here," Quinn gestured to the bag leaning against the table.

Santana nodded, "Yep!"

"How about I show you some sights? If you want, of course. I mean, I've only been here two weeks but I definitely know where to find amazing food!"

"That sounds really great. Maybe food would help my jetlag. I mean, only if you don't mind of course."

Quinn smiled, "Not at all. Do you want to drop your bag off wherever you're staying first?"

Santana nodded, "Sounds like a plan to me, Q."

Santana popped the last chunk of her croissant into her mouth, settled her bill and the two girls headed off down the streets of Paris. After they'd dropped off her bag, Quinn led her around Paris showing her all kinds of sights. Santana could feel herself relaxing more the longer she spent in Quinn's presence, and she mentally reminded herself that she definitely needed to ring Kurt and Rachel to tell them about this development. It occurred to Santana that she wasn't sure she'd ever felt so comfortable around someone, especially not someone she hardly knew. Being around Quinn was easy, and she liked it.

Quinn had insisted on taking Santana to some of her favourite places, which (as promised) had included sampling a whole lot of food from Quinn's favourite hang outs. The two of them were currently lying on the grass in a nearby park, and Santana had been groaning about the food baby that was living inside her stomach for at least the past 10 minutes. Quinn had repeatedly rolled her eyes at her, and had insisted that it was all worth it. Santana knew she was right, quite frankly everything they had eaten had been ridiculously delicious. It was only when Santana heard a bell toll somewhere in the distance that she realised exactly what time it was.

"Shit, Quinn!" Santana rolled onto her side suddenly, leaning on her elbow, "I didn't realise it was so late. I'm sorry, you probably had stuff you were supposed to be doing today."

"No, it's all good! I really didn't have a whole lot planned, I promise. Besides, I've enjoyed this, so thank you."

Santana's stomach swirled at Quinn's words, something that had happened at multiple points throughout the day. Spending the day with Quinn had been fantastic, but Santana had a feeling she knew why it had all felt so easy for her. She'd been trying to avoid the feeling in the pit of her stomach all day but it was all to no avail. As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew that she still felt an unexplainable pull towards Quinn. Her eyes were suddenly focused on Quinn's lips and Santana couldn't stop thinking about how good it would be to kiss her again. However, her mind came back to the same point that it had done for the last 9 months.

Quinn had given her a fake number.

That definitely meant something, and so she knew chasing after anything with Quinn was absolutely pointless.

"Santana?"

Santana nodded her head in response, unable to actually summon any words. Being around Quinn was so bittersweet that she felt like her head was about to explode. Could she actually just be friends with this girl? She wasn't so sure.

"Is everything okay? You're sort of… I don't know. Quiet."

Quinn's eyes were staring into hers and all Santana knew was that she was back in a place where she didn't want to be. Back in a place where feelings meant too much, and she couldn't explain them let alone deal with them. She'd spent a lot of time getting over the mess that Quinn had managed to cause inside her brain, and her common sense told her that being with Quinn again probably wasn't a good idea, not when she still made her feel like this, "I'm alright."

Quinn raised her eyebrow, "You're not very good at lying."

Without meaning to the words blurted from her mouth, "Back in New York, why did you blow me off like that?"

Quinn's eyes widened in surprise, "Blow you off?"

"Yeah, with your number."

"Santana, you never called. I took it as a clear sign that it was a one night deal for you." Quinn looked at her, confusion written all over her face.

"I did call, well at least I tried. Calling someone is a lot easier when the number they give you isn't fake."

"What?!" Quinn sat upright in shock, "I didn't give you a fake number! I gave you my real number, Santana. You're the one who never called me."

Santana furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, before digging out her phone. She tapped on the screen before passing it over to Quinn, "Look! Wrong number!"

Quinn's eyes glanced over the screen, "Oh… There should be another number on the end."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"That wasn't intentional, Santana." Quinn took a breath before continuing, as though steadying herself for what she was about to say, "Look, you came across as the type of girl who was perfectly comfortable having a one night stand so I didn't expect you to want my number or anything. When you asked for it I was sort of shocked, and I must have typed it wrong. I waited for you to call but you didn't so I took it as a sign that you weren't as interested as I was."

Santana let Quinn's words sink in, "You were interested in me?"

"Yes," Quinn nodded, "Very."

"Well, so was I." Santana said quietly, "I mean, interested in you. Not me. That would be a little big headed even for me."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Quinn smiled softly, "This is sort of ridiculous, right?"

"What part of this day hasn't been ridiculous?" Santana countered.

"True," Quinn giggled slightly.

Santana had no idea what to say. On one hand, finding out that Quinn had been interested in her all along definitely made her feel like less of a fool, but on the other, it didn't really change anything. Santana was about to move to London and Quinn was off traveling the world. Making a move now would surely be nothing short of absolutely foolish…

_I can't do this. I can't go there, not with Quinn. I should have known all of this was a bad idea._

"I should probably head back and get some sleep. Jetlag and all that…" Santana said quietly, tearing her eyes away from Quinn's.

A flash of what looked like hurt shot across Quinn's face momentarily, "Oh, of course. We're not far away actually, I'll take you."

"You really don't have to do that, you've done enough for me already."

"I insist," Quinn said, standing up and offering out her hand to Santana to help her.

Santana hesitated briefly before taking the hand being offered to her. She, thankfully, managed to retain control of her balance and got up with a fairly decent amount of grace, "Thank you."

"Like I said, Santana, I've enjoyed myself."

As they made their way back Santana could sense the change in their conversation. What had felt easy and natural before, suddenly felt stilted, and she was pretty sure most of the awkwardness was coming from her.

The day had been a rollercoaster of emotions, that much was definitely true. Just a few hours ago things had been going brilliantly, and she had naively thought that perhaps her and Quinn could be friends, or at least hang out while they were both in Paris. Now, with their discussion of what had happened in New York, everything seemed to have changed, and she wasn't sure it was for the better. Since that conversation in the park, and Santana's quick change of subject, the atmosphere had altered dramatically. If they were both in New York right now Santana had no doubt she'd be asking Quinn on a date, but they weren't.

"So this is you," Quinn pointed to the building in front of them.

Santana recognised the front of the building and nodded, "It is. Thank you. Are you ok getting back to wherever you're staying?"

"Yeah, it's really not that far," Quinn smiled politely, "But thank you."

A brief silence hung between them before Quinn said hesitantly, "Anyway, I should be going. It was nice bumping into you again, Santana."

Quinn gave a small, and somewhat awkward, wave and started walking away. It crossed Santana's mind that she probably wouldn't see her again, after all she didn't have her number. This was it. If she let Quinn walk away now, the chances of her coming back into her life again were surely impossible. After all, life had already thrown her a second chance by letting them meet again in Paris, a third chance was out of the question. Life just wasn't that generous.

A million scenarios ran through Santana's head, all of them reinforcing to her that being around Quinn was a bad idea. What could she hope to gain from three weeks with her? The way Santana saw it, the only thing she'd gain would be a broken heart.

But as Quinn walked away all Santana knew was that she desperately wanted her to stay, whatever the consequences.

"Quinn!" Santana called after her, chasing her down the street, "Fuck, just wait will you?"

Quinn turned around slowly, "What?"

"Are you pissed at me?"

Quinn sighed, "I'm not angry, no. Look, I just had a really nice time with you today and it was great to actually spend time with you. Then you went all weird after our talk in the park and quite frankly you've been a bit of a bitch since then and there was really no reason to be. I get it if you don't want to hang out again, alright? It's fine. I'm a big girl and I'm not going to get offended."

"Fuck, I like you, Quinn."

"Erm…" Quinn began, clearly unsure of what to say.

"I like you and after we met in New York I went fucking crazy for a while because you made me feel things I haven't felt in a long time and I know that makes me sound like a complete weirdo, which I probably am since I went as far as going to your fucking apartment to try and find you, but damn I like you, Quinn." The words rushed out, and Santana knew there was no way she could stop them even if she wanted to, "And after your neighbour said you'd left New York I figured I'd never see you again but here we are, both of us, and maybe this is crazy because I'm going to be in London soon and you're going to be god knows where doing your awesome traveling thing, but I really like you."

Quinn's eyes widened with shock, the corners of her mouth creeping up into a small smile, "You went to my apartment?"

"Erm… Yes. Yes, I did that."

"A bit like a stalker?"

Santana nodded, "Kind of, yeah."

"I kinda like that you did that." Quinn took a step forward, "And I definitely like you."

Santana's tongue instinctively swept across her bottom lip, and her heart began to beat faster with every movement Quinn made towards her, "I leave in three weeks. Do you even know where you'll be in three weeks time?"

"No, but that gives us three whole weeks before it's a problem, doesn't it?" Quinn grinned, "Look, all I know is I feel this connection with you and I'd really like to actually get to know you some more. Plus, I'd  _really_  like to kiss you again."

Quinn closed the gap between them and suddenly all Santana could feel were Quinn's lips pressed against hers. All the emotions Santana had felt when she had kissed Quinn for the first time came flooding back, their strength almost overwhelming. She was lost in the kiss, and lost in Quinn.

"God, Quinn," she whispered between kisses, one hand finding the back of Quinn's neck while the other settled on her waist, pulling her so close that it was as though every inch of their bodies were touching.

The kiss deepened and Santana felt Quinn's tongue dart across her bottom lip before it entered her mouth. Santana wasn't sure how long they'd even been stood there, all she knew was that she didn't want the moment to ever end.

Quinn broke off their kiss for just long enough to whisper, "Are you going to invite me in or not?"

Santana knew it was probably a bad idea but she ignored all the warning bells that were ringing in her head. Right now, all that seemed to matter was the dizzy feeling in her head and the desire coursing through her veins, "Reckon you can beat last time, Fabray? You left a pretty good impression."

Quinn pulled away, one finger trailing slowly up and down Santana's forearm as she did. She stepped away and walked towards the door, pausing momentarily to look behind her and lock her eyes with Santana's before she opened it, "Last time was just a warm up."

As Quinn grabbed her hand and led her up the stairs, Santana knew that after these three weeks things would never be the same.


	6. 3, 2, 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chunk of this is written in the form of Santana's diary entries. They begin the morning after where the last chapter left off.
> 
> This story seriously writes itself. It doesn't matter what I do, or plan, it just goes off and does its own thing. This is nothing at all like I had intended.
> 
> This chapter has been incredibly difficult to write and I'm certain that without the help of my good friend, Beth, I would have struggled to finish it. She helped me write the ending when it was driving me crazy and so she is essentially my co-author for this chapter. I owe her way too much to convey in this author's note and I sincerely hope she knows that.
> 
> This is the last full chapter, but there will be an epilogue.

12th August

_My brain is still so fried from last night that there is literally only one word that is whizzing around my head…_

_Wow._

_Fuck, I'd forgotten how good Quinn is in bed. 'Good' doesn't even do her justice. There's probably no word that does but that might just be me, because words have never exactly been my forte. I'm better with the physical. I'm unashamed to say she rocked my world. It's not just the way she mysteriously seems to have my body completely mapped out already, it's not the way my entire body seems to be at her mercy, it's not the way her kisses make me feel drunk. I know Rachel and Kurt will absolutely kill me for even letting myself get caught up in this, because it's not just the sex. It's her._

_It's Quinn._

_I know the wonder twins would tell me that whatever game I'm playing is a dangerous one, but I'm not sure I can bring myself to care. Not when the game is this good to play._

_Yes, I just got myself involved with someone I know I have feelings for._

_Okay, we only have 3 weeks._

_No, I can't see any sort of happy ending here._

_But maybe 3 weeks is better than nothing. Right?_

_Either way, I guess I'm about to find out._

* * *

15th August

_The last few days have pretty much consisted of Quinn dragging me around Paris like an overexcited kid. She insisted on taking me round the Louvre, which I mean, is pretty impressive. It's basically a giant palace of fancy art. Quinn must have been round it a couple of times already because that girl knew exactly where she was going. Dork. I won't admit it to anyone but her, but I did kind of really like it. I do have a bone to pick with it all though- how fucking small is the Mona freakin' Lisa?! It's practically a fancy postage stamp. Seriously._

_I called Kurt and Rachel the other day to let them know I wasn't dead. And yeah, when I filled them in I may have conveniently missed out the bit of my story where I'm essentially sort-of-maybe-kind-of-dating-but-not-really-dating Quinn. What was I supposed to do? If I tell them they'll just shout at me, and I wouldn't blame them for it, but I don't need to hear it._

_We haven't actually discussed whatever it is that's going on between us. In fact, I'm pretty sure we've got this unspoken agreement between us about just enjoying whatever it is that we have rather than ruining it by talking about it._

_The problem is sometimes I can't help but fast forward to what the hell's going to happen when I leave in two and half weeks. Part of me doesn't want to know._

_But whatever, that's not important right now._

* * *

19th August

_God, my feet are sore as hell today. I've been in Paris a week and we've pretty much seen all the major sights now._

_It's really weird but we've sort of settled into this routine where we spend the day sightseeing together, and we spend the night wrapped around each other in my bed. The first couple of evenings ended with those super awkward goodbyes where she'd drop me back at my hotel and we'd both half-heartedly say goodnight, even though all we both wanted was to not have to say it at all._

_The first time she must have been 100m away before I swallowed my pride and shouted down the street, telling her to turn her fine ass around. The second time she only made it half that distance before she turned around, raised her ridiculously sexy eyebrow at me, and walked straight back to my door. Neither of us needed to say anything._

_Now there are no false goodbyes. No walking away. No talking about it. She just stays._

_Neither of us question it, and I know I don't want to anyway. It all just feels right… too right._

_It's all starting to fill my head a little too much. At first it was easy to ignore it all, and just get swept away with having this adventure with her, but now it's not the places that we're going to go to that I'm thinking about. It's the fact that she's going to be by my side._

_I know I can't think about it too much, because I'm pretty sure it won't help at all, but sometimes I can't help it and I fucking hate it._

_But anyway, I told myself I wouldn't say anything so I won't. After all, it's not like it'll change anything anyway. I'm sort of glad I'm spending the next few days with my aunt because part of me thinks I need some time away from all of this._

_The other part of me never wants to leave. I hate that part._

* * *

23rd August

_I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty sure the past few days away from Quinn have only confused me more, and I didn't even think that was possible._

_It's only been 11 days since she crash landed back into my life but in some ways it feels like it's been forever._

_I don't remember ever feeling this way, not since Britt anyway and that was a long time ago now. Even after all this time I can remember exactly how she made me feel, and I know that how I feel about Quinn is different somehow. I don't know precisely how, but it just is._

_With Britt I fell so deeply it scared me, I loved her so intensely. We were just kids and I see that now. I was 17 and madly in love but that's just the thing, I was 17. She was perfect for me then, at that point of my life, and I know it. But then we went in different directions and we both grew up, and as we did we grew apart. It was inevitable really. But I've come to realise that some people are perfect for you, but the problem is that 'you' change and suddenly, before you have a chance to see it coming, neither of you are perfect for each other anymore. But you were perfect at that moment, and that's what matters._

_It tore me apart at the time. The first person I'd ever truly loved, the first person I'd let see inside me properly, and she was gone. I remember exactly how it felt. It was like drowning._

_I told myself I'd never let myself get in that situation again yet here I am and I'm dangerously close to crossing that line._

_I'm not saying I'm in love with Quinn because, let's face it, it's been practically no time at all. Surely that would be ridiculous? I know that whatever I am feeling scares me so much though._

_It's the feeling of butterflies I have every time she holds my hand, and the feeling of utter joy I get when I see her smile. It's the feeling of home I get when she curls herself into me as we sleep._

_It's the feeling of falling._

* * *

26th August

_I could say I'm not counting down the days, but honestly it would just be a big, fat lie._

_7 days. That's all that's left. I don't know how time has passed this quickly but I don't think I've ever wanted a time machine more than I do now._

_When I got back from visiting my aunt, Quinn told me she had a surprised lined up. Turned out she'd gone and planned for us to go to Ireland. She figured it would be a shame to spend the entirety of my 3 weeks in France so she booked us some flights while I was gone._

_I tried to tell her that she was being ridiculous, but she insisted that I didn't need to pay her back. She said something about having money being no fun if you couldn't share it with someone._

_So here we are, in the land of the leprechauns. Apparently she debated a few locations; Spain, Germany, Switzerland… but Ireland won because of the accent. After being here for a full day now, I can't say I disagree with her._

_We went to some place called Giant's Causeway today, and Quinn wouldn't stop freaking out about how cool it was. She's a complete nerd and kept rambling on about the history of it. I swear, the way her face lights up when she talks about things she's passionate about, I can't help but get excited with her. If Rachel and Kurt could've seen me, trampling around in the Irish countryside with a big ass grin on my face, then I'm sure they would've laughed for at least an hour._

_The truth is, I'd walk in the fucking countryside all day as long if I was holding her hand while I did it._

_Shit._

_Fucking hell._

_What have I done?_

_I need to ring Rachel and Kurt._

* * *

29th August

_They didn't even shout at me. I think that's what makes it all worse. I told them that I'd met Quinn again and that I thought I was falling for her, and they didn't even call me a asshole for putting myself in this situation. They both said I should tell her what I'm thinking, but how can I?_

_This has always been something we knew had to come to an end. We've always known that we just had three weeks together._

_Time._

_It's always been the thing we don't mention._

_Honestly, I don't even know what she's thinking half the time. I have no clue how she fucking feels about any of this. All I know is that I can't bear the thought of leaving her in a few days. Just thinking about it makes me physically ache inside._

_I woke up with Quinn's limbs wrapped around mine, just like every morning, and when I looked at her all I knew was that I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather have beside me. But really that's the problem, isn't it?_

_I know I was stupid for even thinking that I wouldn't fall for her, because that process began nearly 10 months ago from the moment I met her in that stupid bar. I went there for a hook up and left with so much more._

_I can't do this. Writing about it just makes it worse._

_Writing about it doesn't change the fact that I'm head over heels with her._

_I'm falling but instead of anyone being there to catch me, I'm just going to hit the fucking ground._

* * *

The wind blustered through the air. Occasionally causing leaves to tumble slowly to the ground, pulled away from the branches that held them.

It was the 2nd of September, and the wind that was currently causing Santana's hair to fly all over was blowing through London. In fact, that particular gust of wind had just blown through Regent's Park.

To anybody else, Santana was sure there was nothing particularly special about that day.

It was busy and people were bustling around, going about their day to day business seemingly without a care in the world. Santana couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy over how utterly normal other people's days might be, because today was the day she had been dreading for weeks. Three weeks to be precise.

Today was her last day with Quinn.

First thing tomorrow morning, Quinn would be getting on a train and hurtling away from her.

They'd spent the majority of their last week in Ireland, until Quinn had insisted on flying with her to London so that Santana was where she needed to be to start university.

As they walked along through the pathway of trees, Santana could feel the difference in the atmosphere between them. Over the last couple of days there had been a gradual change in their interactions. What had once been so casual, so fun, had gained a new, and unspoken, edge.

Despite her friends telling her to talk to Quinn, Santana had done no such thing. She'd considered it more than just a few times, but always seemed to arrive at the same conclusion.

It was pointless.

Santana was about to start university, Quinn was going to continue traveling the world, having her adventure, and writing her novel. What they had couldn't exist out of these three weeks, at least not in Santana's eyes. Even if she did decide to talk to Quinn about it all, what was she supposed to say?

_'So, I know I've known you for less than a month and we're not going to be in the same country but how do you fancy being my girlfriend because I've kind of fallen madly for you?'_

Over the past three weeks her feelings had grown so much that they almost felt like they were filling every part of her. Things with Quinn felt so right, so easy, it was as though they were made for each other.

Except whoever had made them so right for each other was clearly playing some kind of sick joke.

So they walked side by side, and for the first time in a couple of weeks their fingers weren't intertwined. Santana couldn't help but think about how empty the space between her fingers seemed. It was as though those spaces had been designed specifically for Quinn, and now they had lost their purpose.

"We're here," Quinn said quietly, pointing to the large sign that said 'London Zoo'. She smiled, trying to break the atmosphere that was threatening to suffocate them, "You know, they've got gorillas and everything here. Like, right in the middle of a park. It doesn't even look that big from here. It's sort of crazy, right?"

"Yeah, I guess it is," Santana said quietly.

Quinn paused for a moment, clearly trying to think of something that would dissolve the tension between them, "Giraffes too. I love giraffes, they just look sort of impossible, you know? Especially when they drink. Oh, and giant tortoises. You've got to love those, they're practically dinosaurs when you think about it. And lemurs, like the ones in Madagascar-"

"It's a zoo, Quinn. They have a lot of fucking animals."

Quinn looked to the floor, "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Santana sighed, interjecting, "No, I'm sorry." She knew she wasn't being fair to Quinn at all, after all it wasn't her fault that Santana was feeling so miserable about the prospect of having to return to a Quinn-less life, "Ignore me."

"Santana, come here," Quinn walked over to the nearest bench, gesturing for Santana to join her, "We both know we're ignoring the massive elephant in the room."

"And here I was thinking that we were about to see elephants for real," Santana joked, smiling gently at Quinn.

"Actually, they don't have elephants here."

Santana shook her head, "I cannot believe you brought me to a zoo that doesn't even have elephants."

Quinn giggled in response, "Oh shut up."

"Let's just have a good day, yeah?" Santana asked, turning to face the blonde properly. Her stomach swirled, the butterflies inside her causing something that felt similar to a twister, "Besides, you're right, giraffes are definitely cool."

Quinn looked at Santana, uncertainty in her eyes, "Are you sure?"

Santana knew that Quinn had practically given her an invitation to talk about what was going on between them, but there seemed to be no point ruining their day by talking about it now. If this was going to be her last day with Quinn, then she might as well try to make it a happy memory.

Santana stood up, mentally attempting to shake the bad mood that was building inside her, "You promised me gorillas, Q. If you're lucky I'll show you my gorilla impression, blondie."

Quinn laughed, and walked after Santana, "You're ridiculous. Clearly, I should've brought you to a zoo sooner."

Ordinarily, out of the two of them, it was Quinn that dragged Santana around and got ridiculously excited, but now the roles were reversed. Ever since they had gone through the ticket barrier, Santana had spent the entire time getting excited about the animals that were all around them. When they'd seen a giant anteater Santana had stood there gasping for almost a full minute.

She'd also insisted on providing her own running commentary for most of the animals as they walked around, giving them their own individual voices and names. The pgymy hippo had been named Patrick and seemed to speak with a Scottish accent, whereas two of the zebras had been christened Paulo and Isabella and were apparently part of the Italian mafia.

Santana had tried to get Quinn to join in and had eventually succeeded. Together they had started making up their own stories for each of the animals. They'd been there for two hours already and had just reached the gorilla enclosure.

"Oh my goodness, I told y'all Vinnie was feeling grumpy today. He's slouching something rotten. He'll be giving himself all sorts of back problems," Santana said loudly, putting on her best Southern drawl and ignoring the people staring at her.

Quinn burst into laughter, clutching her sides, "That has to be the worst southern accent I've ever heard!"

Santana placed her hands on her hips, pouting, "Don't go insulting my accent! Vinnie will come and beat you up for me and he's a gorilla, Q. You don't wanna be messing with him."

Quinn stepped closer and placed one hand on Santana's shoulder, before saying (as seriously as she could manage), "I'm truly sorry. Please tell Vinnie I never meant to insult him, or you, in any way."

"You might need to tell him that yourself, he takes things to heart," Santana said, gesturing to the silverback who was sat nearby, behind the glass in the indoor section of their huge enclosure.

Quinn began laughing but abruptly stopped as she saw the very serious expression on Santana's face, "Are you serious? Do you actually want me to stand here and apologise to a gorilla?"

Santana nodded, "Not just any gorilla, to Vinnie."

Quinn swallowed, suddenly aware of the rather large crowd that was around them, also looking at the silverback that was surprisingly close to the window. She exhaled and said quietly, "Vinnie, I would just-"

"He can't hear you, Q. You gotta speak up if he's gonna hear you through that glass, you know."

"Is this really necessary?" Quinn whispered.

"Well you've been making fun of my accents all day. I mean, I can cope with that but Vinnie? He takes things to heart. Besides, if you apologise then I'll buy you an ice cream."

Quinn thought about Santana's offer for a moment, "Fine. But I want sprinkles."

"Deal."

Quinn cleared her throat, "Vinnie-"

"Louder," Santana said, "I'll get you two scoops. Maybe even three."

"Vinnie!" Quinn exclaimed, avoiding eye contact with the plethora of people who were now looking in her direction, "I am sincerely sorry for ever offending either yourself or your friend, Santana." She pointed to the brunette stood next to her, "I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

Santana smirked and turned to face Quinn who was already looking at her expectantly. Santana couldn't hold in her laughter any longer, "I cannot believe you actually did that!"

"You're an asshole sometimes, you know, but I want that ice cream," Quinn said, grabbing Santana's hand and stepping away from the glass.

Santana took a deep breath in, clutching her sides as she attempted to stop the laughter that was shaking through her. Eventually it subsided and she straightened up, looking directly into Quinn's eyes, "God, you're such a dork. You're amazing."

A gentle blush spread through Quinn's cheeks, "You're pretty incredible yourself, you know."

Santana eyes were completely locked on to Quinn's hazel ones. She felt a shiver run through her, a sensation that had become all too familiar over the past few weeks. Quinn closed the gap between them and her lips brushed over Santana's softly. Santana's hand found Quinn's cheek and she tenderly brushed her thumb over the blonde's soft skin.

The kiss didn't last long at all, and out of all the kisses they'd shared it certainly wasn't the most passionate. It wasn't full of ferocity or deep desire. However, for Santana it was the tenderness of the entire moment that struck her, causing a painful twisting deep inside her.

Her heart began to beat heavily in her chest, thudding with the weight of her emotions. Sobs threatened to rip through her as she realised that in less than 18 hours Quinn would be on a train and disappearing from her life. She blinked, trying to hold back the tears that she knew were dangerously close to the surface.

She saw a change in Quinn's mood too. It was unmistakeable. Just moments ago swimming in those hazel eyes, amongst the specks of brown, green, and gold, there had been happiness. Now, however, that had been replaced with the precise opposite.

Three words left Santana's mouth, barely even a whisper. The only indication that Quinn had even heard them over the noise around them came from the expression on her face.

"Please don't leave."

They were just three small words, not complex in any particular linguistic way, but their meaning was far from simple.

The people around them faded away as Santana's eyes refused to leave Quinn's. The weight of her words hit her, and as they did she was powerless to stop the tears that began to roll down her cheeks, "Stay. Stay with me."

Her sentence almost came out as a question, and she was aware of how loaded that question was. Was it really fair of her to ask Quinn to stay? To abandon everything she wanted to be with her?

Suddenly Quinn's thumb was gently brushing across her cheek, wiping away the tears that were spilling from her so easily, "Santana..."

"I know I have no right to ask you that. I know I don't. I just..." Santana was vaguely aware of Quinn's fingers meeting hers, and she felt a gentle pull as Quinn led her away from the crowded area by the enclosure. She wasn't exactly sure how her feet were moving, but she knew that they were because suddenly they were stood in a much quieter area, hidden from view by a large silver birch tree.

Quinn's fingers met her chin, and Santana looked up and found herself staring back into those eyes once more, "Look at me."

"I can't stand the idea of you leaving, Quinn. I know I have no right to ask you to stay here, none at all, but you have no idea how these past three weeks have been for me. I've wanted to tell you but I just didn't know how. God, Quinn, I love you and I know that's a little bit crazy but I know it's true. I know it's true because I know that, without a shadow of a doubt, I want you here with me. I want to be the one that makes you smile, that stands by the choices you make, that is there to support you and hold your hand, that sticks around even when you're in the world's worst mood, that never judges you for anything. I want to be all of that and so much more," a breath shuddered through her as she paused, "I'm so in love with you, Quinn. I know that I shouldn't ask you to stay, because it's not fair, but I just can't bear the idea of you leaving."

Quinn's tears fell, meeting Santana's on the dusty ground beneath them. Her hand was still clutching Santana's, her breathing unsteady as she spoke, "I know. Santana, I thought this could just be an adventure. You and me taking on the world for three weeks." She shook her head and smiled sadly, "I never expected to fall in love with you."

At Quinn's words Santana felt something stir inside her, it was only small, but she knew exactly what it was: a spark of hope, "Quinn…"

"I love you," Quinn stepped forward, her unoccupied hand grazing softly against Santana's cheek, "But I can't stay."

The spark of hope inside her didn't have a chance to catch fire, extinguished all too soon by Quinn's words. As much as Santana tried to speak, she somehow couldn't find the right words to say. She had already said so much, yet none of those words had ultimately appeared to matter at all, "But… I…."

"I need to do this, to see the world. I need to do it for me." Quinn's voice was edged with hurt, as though her own words were twisting through her just as painfully as they were for Santana, "All my life I've felt boxed in. My whole childhood I had my Father telling me what to do and who to be, and it was only when I was 18 and I finally told him to shove the future he expected me to have up his ass that I started to realise that I wasn't being who I wanted to be at all. I've spent the last few years doing that but I'm still working it out."

"Why can't you be who you want to be with me?" Santana's voice was clouded with her tears, and muffled by the lump that had formed in her throat. As she spoke her voice began to break, yet another physical sign of the emotions that were ripping harshly through her. She looked to the ground, pulling her hand from Quinn's. The physical contact now just an unwanted reminder of the girl that was slipping further and further out of her grasp.

"Oh, San, of course I can, but it's not just that. I don't know how to explain…" Quinn ran a hand through her blonde hair, inhaling deeply as another sob shook through her, "I've wanted to do this for so long, traveling and seeing the world, finding inspiration for my writing. It's my dream and you don't know how badly I want to stay, you really don't, but if I do I know how much I'll resent you for it. I might not feel that way straightaway, but one day we'll have a fight and I'll bring it up and… God, I don't want to ever feel anything negative about you. I just need this, for me. Please tell me you understand."

Santana gave a small nod, her voice quiet, "I get it, Quinn."

"I want to be with you too though, San," Quinn said sadly as she reached out to grab Santana's hand, but was rejected as she moved it quickly away, "If I thought you could come with me, I'd ask you in a heartbeat, but I know you can't."

Santana looked up, disbelief in her eyes, "If you're suggesting long distance then you know that's ridiculous. That shit doesn't work and people who think it does are just kidding themselves." Anger began to overtake her, crushing the sadness she felt inside and replacing it with a burning fire, "Just leave it. I get it, okay? It's my own fault for even thinking any of this was even a good idea. I should've known to steer clear of you."

"Don't say that," Quinn knew her words weren't enough, Santana's anger was bubbling over and spilling out of her every pore, "Santana, please."

"Please what, Quinn?" Santana snapped. Fear, anger, sadness… it was all building inside of her and she couldn't stand it. Tears were still rolling down her cheeks, and she felt stupid. Stupid for telling Quinn how she felt, stupid for believing Quinn would just drop everything and be with her, stupid for thinking Quinn loving her made any difference at all.

"I don't know. I really don't want things to be like this."

"Yeah, well. It's tough shit, isn't it?" Santana yelled, not caring how far her words reached. Abruptly, she turned on her heel and began to walk away.

"Santana!" She heard Quinn's footsteps behind her, her shoes thudding loudly on the ground as she jogged to catch up with her, "Don't leave."

She spun around suddenly, almost causing Quinn to topple into her. Silence filled the space between them as Santana locked her eyes onto Quinn's, waiting a moment before saying, "Why the hell not? I asked you not to leave and you said no, so you know what? I'm saying no now."

"Santana, please. There's no reason why we can't make this work. I'm not going to be gone forever, you know."

"It's not exactly like you know where you're going to end up though, is it Quinn? I'm in fucking London, and you won't be. Even when you finish traveling, unless you managed to get a job, you'd need a visa to be here," Santana said, throwing her hands up in the air.

"It's not impossible. We could figure something out. I'd need one eventually if I stayed now as well and you just asked me to do that."

"Well I guess I wasn't thinking straight when I asked you to stay was I?" The words fell out of her mouth viciously, laced with venom. Santana had a feeling she wasn't thinking rationally, but trying to stop the hurricane of thoughts in her mind was absolutely pointless and she knew it. Less than five minutes ago there had been a small slither of hope, but now that was gone. It was all crashing down around her and all Santana knew was that being around Quinn was not going to help her in the slightest. It was far easier to be angry, even if it was unfair, "Life isn't a fucking fairytale, and I was an idiot for thinking it was. You'd think I'd know better by now."

"It might not be a fairytale, but it doesn't have to be a tragedy either," Quinn said sadly, her eyes red and puffy due to the tears streaming from them.

"You just don't get it! I haven't let myself do this, get attached to anyone, for 3 years. My ex pretty much broke my heart into smithereens and I told myself I would never let someone get close enough to do that again. But fuck, with you I can't help it. I put myself out there and I stupidly hoped that we could be something real, but I should've known it would smack me in the face. This shit always does," The anger that had been building was plummeting back down to the ground as she opened up, her words full of such raw honesty. All she wanted to do was run as far away from Quinn as she could, something that would only be a hopeless attempt to avoid the inevitable conclusion she could feel herself racing towards, "I can't wait around for you, not when you don't even know how long you'll be gone for. Let's face it, this was doomed from the start."

Quinn inhaled sharply, an attempt to calm her jagged breathing and tattered emotions, "I don't want it to end like this."

In what could only be described as a moment of complete and utter weakness, Santana allowed her eyes to become fixed on Quinn's properly. As she did she felt her guard slip slightly, her anger giving way to the pain she felt inside. She saw that same pain echoed in the hazel eyes in front of her, a look that didn't suit the blonde. It only added to the aching in Santana's heart, splintering it further.

For a moment she allowed herself to imagine a different world, one where she could just leave everything behind and go with Quinn, where Quinn could stay right there with her forever. The problem was, whichever way she looked at it, the truth was that they both had different dreams to follow right now, dreams designed to make them happy, and it was those very dreams that were pulling them apart. She knew that was the truth, although it did nothing to ease the hurt resonating through her.

"I don't want it to end at all," Santana felt fresh tears roll down her cheeks at the anticipation of the words she knew she was about to say next. The sentence sat uncomfortably in her mind, the honesty behind it almost too much for her to handle. She sucked a deep breath in, hoping, naively, that the oxygen would do something to ease the pounding in both her head and her heart. She shook her head sadly, her voice unsteady as she spoke, "But some things have to."

She watched as Quinn absorbed her words. She had a feeling that the blonde was still trying to make sense of everything that had been said in the past 10 minutes, after all, Santana knew she was. It had all happened so fast, all changed so much in such a short space of time.

"Don't say that," Quinn pleaded softly.

"It's the truth," Santana looked up, forcing her eyes to focus on the leaves of the silver birch tree that were swaying gently in the breeze, "I want to be mad at you. I really do, but how can I be? It doesn't change anything anyway. You have your dream and I have my dream. Our dreams just don't match up."

"It doesn't mean they can't in the future," Quinn said, although Santana could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

"You were right. You'll resent me if you stay, and that would hurt way too much and I couldn't bear being the one to stand between what you really want. I want to be the one that makes you happy, and you won't be happy if you stay. Not really."

Santana knew there was nothing that Quinn could say now, and so when the silence grew around them she didn't really mind. She wasn't exactly sure she wanted to hear any more words anyway, not when each one just seemed to slash at her, ripping and tearing every part of her soul. In an ideal world, all Santana wanted was to spend every day of her life waking up to next to the blonde in front of her. But she was in the real world, a world that was cold and harsh, and she knew that being around Quinn was only making everything worse, dragging out the ending of their story and prolonging the moment she had hoped to never have.

In the end the desire for self-preservation was too strong, overwhelming the want to continue desperately hoping that things could change. Hope, in this case, was hopeless.

"You're going to leave, aren't you?" Quinn said, "This is really it."

"It had to end at some point."

"Just so you know, these last three weeks have been some of the best of my life."

"Yeah," Santana nodded sadly, "See you."

As Santana turned to walk away she couldn't quite believe that this was really it, that they were really saying goodbye.

Soft skin brushed against her arm, and she stopped dead in her tracks not daring to look behind her and into the eyes of the girl she so desperately loved. Her gaze remained fixed on the ground, until she closed her eyes in an attempt to calm the racing heartbeat that was pounding furiously in her chest. She felt, rather than saw, Quinn move to stand in front of her. Santana felt familiar fingers lace around hers, and a breath shuddered through her chest at the unexpected contact. Part of her wanted to run away, to avoid this one last moment, but inside she knew that their goodbye hadn't been enough. However much this was going to hurt her now, she would forever regret not holding Quinn last time.

She felt the warmth radiating from Quinn's body as the girl stepped closer, her other hand finding its rightful place on Santana's cheek. Pain shot through her heart, the sensation was agonisingly sharp, but she ignored it nonetheless. She sighed, giving in to the moment completely, and her forehead met Quinn's while one arm wrapped itself around her waist, pulling her in closer. She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, their eyes closed, but Santana knew that if this was the last time she would ever hold Quinn in her arms, then she wanted to memorise every last detail of it, no matter how much it hurt her to do so.

Tears rolled silently down her cheeks, a contrast to the sobs that had reverberated through her chest only moments before. She didn't need to open her eyes to know that Quinn was doing the same, she just knew.

The word 'bittersweet' had never resonated so clearly for her as it did now, the word somehow taking on a whole new meaning.

Santana wished they could stay there, just the two of them lost forever in that moment together, but she knew it was impossible.

She took in a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the goodbye that didn't want to leave her lips. Her fingers lightly squeezed Quinn's as she exhaled slowly, "I need to go."

Quinn spoke softly, her words barely loud enough to be heard, "I know."

Santana's chest tightened with the words, her breathe stolen away so easily it terrified her. It didn't matter that children were running all around them, their laughter and screaming was barely even audible to Santana. It was just her and Quinn, together in their own world. A world that was about to fall apart at the seams.

She forced herself to open her eyes, the tears still hanging from her eyelashes clouding her vision. Through the haze she could make out Quinn's eyes, still mesmerising as ever, staring back at her. She searched for the right words to say, for anything to say, but it was pointless. There was nothing left to talk about. It didn't matter how she felt, or how Quinn felt, because, even if Quinn was perfect for her, right now wasn't the right time for them. The fact was, she had found the one, and was knowingly walking away.

Quinn's eyes echoed her thoughts silently, reflecting the desperation, sadness, regret and fear that she was sure could be seen in her own.

A small sigh fell from her lips, which were only millimeters away from Quinn's. Her jaw clenched, half of her wanting to kiss Quinn until the sun came down; the other needing to create as much space between them as possible.

"I love you."

Voice holding steady; the words were not a plea, nor a bargaining chip. They were the only words she trusted her mouth to speak, the one thing she could trust was true.

She looked down at their hands, remembering how she'd felt the very first time, how it seemed no one else's could ever fit so perfectly. Eyes squeezed tight once more, she shook the memory from her mind; it was of no use right now. She dropped her hand, instantly missing the warmth and comfort that it had provided, while her other hand lingered on Quinn's hip.

After a beat, she removed it completely, knowing if she didn't leave now, she never would. Taking another step back, her eyes drinking in every detail and committing it to memory, she backed away from the blonde. Wetting her lips, she bit down gently before finally tearing her eyes away; turning to leave.

She walked past the laughing children, past all the people playing happy families, past the couples holding hands, past the friends joking together. There was no looking back now, all she could do was continue to walk away. Walk away from everything she wanted so desperately, but everything she also knew she couldn't have.

Leaving the gates, her steps were long and heavy, the dull ache spreading through them echoing the one in her chest.

It wasn't until she was sat on a bench in the middle of Regent's Park, tears streaming down her face, that she fully realised the magnitude of what had just happened. She had told Quinn she loved her, only to lose her forever.

Despite her better judgement, she allowed her eyes to look down the pathway and back towards the zoo. She imagined Quinn running down it, footsteps pounding on the hard earth as she chased after Santana and told her everything would be alright, that they could fix it after all.

But the footsteps never came.


	7. Epilogue: An End Has a Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The length of time it has taken me to update this is far longer than I would have liked. Life has been hectic and inspiration didn't hit me for a while but finally I managed to write the ending that I'd had planned from the start. I hope you can forgive me for the wait.
> 
> Regardless, here's the epilogue and therefore the final chapter of this little story. If you're still reading this, despite how long it has been, then thank you and I hope you enjoy it :)

She lifted a hand and subconsciously ruffled it through her blonde hair, now much shorter due to the rather brutal hairdresser she had seen just a few weeks ago in Hong Kong. Sighing, she caught a glimpse of herself in a shop window. The flight had felt excruciatingly long, even though in reality it hadn’t been more than a couple of hours, and Quinn couldn’t help but think she looked a complete mess. Her hazel eyes were marred by red due to several weeks of far less sleep than she would have ordinarily liked, and far too many flights in far too little time.

However, it certainly wasn’t all bad.

She had never imagined that her first book tour would be so exhausting, but it had so far been an incredible experience. Whilst she had definitely enjoyed it, part of Quinn couldn’t help but be thankful that London was their last stop. Exhaustion was beginning to kick in and she had started to lose track of how many different cities she had visited. After tomorrow, it would be time for a well-deserved break although Quinn had no idea what she was going to do.

It had been so long since she’d had any time to herself, that unwinding seemed to be an alien concept. The fact that her break had been designed to perfectly coincide with Christmas only made it worse in her mind.

Going back home to see her family wasn't exactly a thought that filled her with joy. After her father had died, the dynamic of their family had become even more strained (as if that were possible). Her friends were smattered across the globe due to her travelling, so that wasn’t exactly easy either, and it certainly didn't seem acceptable to crash at one of their places for Christmas. She shook her head, watching her breath fill the frosty air in front of her as she sighed. She’d think of something. She always did.

It was then that she saw it. 

Since their plane had touched down just a few short hours ago, a twisting sensation had begun to build inside her. At first it had been small, almost insignificant, and certainly easy enough to ignore. After all, Quinn had been entirely prepared to feel this way. Memories were inevitable and she had learned long ago that trying to block them out was almost always pointless. She was bound to feel something. 

However, that twisting feeling dramatically intensified as her gaze locked onto an uncomfortably familiar sign: ‘Oxford Circus Station’. The white letters gleamed in the soft glow of the sun, unchanged from the last time she had seen them except for a thin layer of snow on top of the sign. Quinn struggled to tear her eyes away. Her mind whizzed through memories at a hurtling pace, almost making her feel sick, the strength of them altogether unexpected.

Since landing, and dropping their stuff at the hotel, Quinn had insisted that she wanted to have some alone time wandering around London. Now she was exceptionally glad that she had. The emotions currently ricocheting through her were surely, she figured, ridiculous.

If anyone else had been with her what was she supposed to say?

That being back in London was apparently more overwhelming than she had expected? That she was feeling this way because the last time she had been here she had walked away from the woman she loved? 

That was just over 7 years ago now, and Quinn had a feeling that her current reactions were borderline absurd.

You see, as much as Quinn had tried to forget everything, her mind still recalled all too well what had happened the last time she was in London all those years ago. The last time she had ever been in the UK. The last time she had seen Santana.

Suddenly it all felt as fresh, as vivid, as intense it had that Sunday when Quinn had walked away, each footstep agonisingly painful, to this very tube stop, tears streaming down her face.

7 years.  
85 months.  
2,586 days.

Quinn had, of course, dated other people since. Some of them had failed to leave any sort of good impression, the odd few had lasted past the first couple of months and one had even made it to an anniversary, but none had managed to make Quinn feel as strongly, as alive, as Santana had.

That wasn't to say the blonde had spent the entirety of the past 7 years moping around, after all that would be considered rather ridiculous. To be honest, she had done the precise opposite. For the most part, her history had been pushed to the side-lines. Quinn's perspective was that re-analysing the events would do her no good. Nothing would change. So, instead, she had poured everything she had into herself and her dreams, not only for a distraction but something she had wanted to do for a long time. She was on her way to achieving everything she had ever wanted, and in some respects had never been happier. 

But seeing that sign and walking those same streets once more, it had dredged all those emotions back up from the depths of her. 

Quinn shook her head, she was being stupid and she knew it.

It was probably completely normal to feel this way. This was the first time she had returned to London and so surely residual thoughts and feelings were bound to reappear.

Either way, thoughts of Santana weren't going to help her in the slightest.

The last time she had indulged in thinking about her, really thinking about her, had been about six months or so after London Zoo. Quinn had sent letters to her university, easily finding the only Santana Lopez enrolled, but had never got any responses. Since then, thoughts had been banned, blocked out because it was simply easier to deal with that way. Less painful. At first, this had been deliberate, and therefore difficult to control, but over time it had become steadily easier and almost second nature.

The pavement quickly disappeared under her feet as she pounded on the concrete, no real destination in mind. Distracting herself, she smiled as she remembered exactly why she was in London in the first place. She might be completely exhausted, and unwanted memories might be in her head, but there was no denying that the fact that she was about to finish her first ever book tour (and a successful one at that) was actually pretty awesome, and a great achievement. 

Rolling her eyes, she ascertained she was being ridiculous. Thinking of Santana was inevitable really when she thought about it, and certainly wasn’t something that had to be negative. With that thought in mind, Quinn decided to make the most of her time in London rather than dwell on her past.

She wasn’t sure exactly how long she’d been walking but the aching in her feet, coupled with the fading light of the sun, told her it must have been a while. Her eyes spotted a familiar green sign and it occurred to her that a caffeine hit was probably just what she needed. 

The queue wasn't too long, not when considering she was in London (in a particularly touristy area too) and it was almost Christmas. Familiar songs full of bells and choirs played all around her, filling up the empty spaces of her mind. She focused on them, only breaking to order her coffee.

She had always loved Christmas. Well, she had always loved the idea of Christmas anyway. The music, the lights, the snow... It had always seemed so magical as a child, yet when the actual day came it had never quite been what she had hoped. Never quite been right. At least that's what she had figured out when other children at school had talked about their Christmas holidays.

It had taken her a long time to work out why this was. They had the presents, they had the turkey; they even had the clichéd roaring fireplace complete with stockings hanging from it. That was all well and good, but growing up, she had realised that if your family didn't love each other, really love each other, then it didn't seem to mean much at all. Her family was complex and she knew it, but she guessed that at least for the most part they'd tried.

As she grabbed her coffee, smiling and thanking the young girl serving her, not for the first time Quinn wondered if maybe she should contact her Mom. It had, after all, been a few months since they had last spoken. Those phone calls were never easy but it was the holidays and she hadn't called on Thanksgiving either... 

As her mind became consumed by these thoughts, she was far too preoccupied to even notice that her current path was leading straight to a head on collision.

"Watch it!"

Quinn looked up just in time to see a woman dodge to the right, narrowly avoiding being drenched in Quinn's coffee. It took a second for Quinn to realise what had just happened, or rather what had almost happened.

"Oh god... I'm so sorry. I didn't even..." Quinn's words tumbled out of her mouth, slightly incoherent but genuinely apologetic. It was only as she turned around, and her eyes focused on the woman that had almost been the victim of her shower of hot coffee, that those words became completely stuck in her throat.

Quinn wasn't sure exactly how many seconds passed but all she knew was that neither of them were saying a word. Eyes she had never dared to believe she'd see again were fixed on hers, and she had no idea what to say. Apparently, the feeling was mutual, and when the silence was eventually broken it was neither of their voices that brought them crashing back down to earth.  
"Santana?" The young girl called out from behind the counter, "Peppermint hot chocolate for Santana?"

Quinn noticed Santana's mouth open slightly, but no words came out. Instead, she smiled somewhat awkwardly and gestured towards the counter where her drink lay waiting, turning her back on the situation and allowing Quinn an extra ten seconds or so to work out what on God’s earth she was going to say.

You're being ridiculous, Quinn. She's just a person. Yes, you have history. Yes, it's not particularly good history. But she's still just a person. Just say hi.

As Santana turned back around, cup in hand, Quinn took her own advice quite literally. "Erm... Hi."

"Hi," Santana responded. She shook her head slightly and laughed softly, "You'd think after so long we could do better than 'hi' wouldn't you?"

Quinn nodded, a smile creeping across her face, "For a while we had silence so at least we improved on that I guess."

As Santana laughed, Quinn felt it echo through her, dredging up pieces of her past that had been locked away for longer than she cared to remember, "That's very true. So what brings you to London?"

"I'm on the final stop of my book tour." Quinn could feel her heart hammering in her chest, and she prayed Santana couldn't hear it. The whole situation seemed so impossible, yet here they were, standing opposite each other. She had no idea why she was so nervous. After all, Santana was really just an old friend and bumping into old friends was supposed to be fun. She pushed the feelings away, instead focusing on enjoying the moment. "What about you? Did you stay here after university?"

Santana nodded, "Yeah, I managed to get jobs dancing in a bunch of productions. I'm in Chicago right now."

"Santana Lopez on the West End, huh? That’s fantastic, San. You’re really living the dream." Quinn grinned.

"Says you,” Santana smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Quinn laughed, "I guess it's funny how things turn out."

"It sure is." Santana paused, and Quinn found herself wondering what thoughts were filling the brunette’s head.

As Quinn looked at the woman across from her she noticed all the little changes that had happened over the past seven years. The way she stood was slightly different, her cheek bones seemed more pronounced, and a few soft lines surrounded her eyes. It all suited her. It seemed right somehow, as if she had become the person she was meant to be. The person she had been searching for when they had first met.

Quinn tried to push back the memories but they came at her like a tidal wave, and she found herself awash with guilt. She knew it was probably stupid. It had been years. Yet, for some reason she had to tell her. Even though it didn't really matter, she had to tell her she was sorry. Sorry for hurting her. Sorry for leaving. Sorry for everything. 

“I… I’m sorry,” Quinn blurted out, “About that-“

“Stop, Q.” Santana smiled softly, a hint of sadness in her eyes. There was no look of surprise in her face. It was almost as though she had expected to have this conversation from the moment they practically crashed into each other. “It was a long time ago. All is forgiven.”

Quinn nodded slowly, her voice quiet. “I guess I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

"I know." Santana paused for a moment, a thought clearly playing on her mind. Finally she said, "I always knew. I got your letters. Thanks for those by the way. Sorry I could never say that to you at the time.”

After she had let Santana's words settle, Quinn started to understand that none of it mattered anymore. Here they both were, and maybe the past didn't have to matter.

Of course, that didn't mean they had to forget. Forgetting was impossible. But how it affected you, how it influenced you, how it changed you... Well they were things that could be controlled.

It was only now that she realised that, try as you might, there were just some things you couldn't push away, couldn't ignore, couldn't erase from your memories. Some things just mean too much, almost scarring your brain and heart permanently, whether they are good or bad. And it was those things that perhaps you just had to accept and embrace. They would always be there and maybe that didn't have to be a bad thing. Maybe, in some sort of way, they made you who you were supposed to be all along.

As these thoughts ran through her mind, Quinn noticed the red cup in Santana's hand, currently being lifted towards her mouth. It took a moment for its significance to be fully understood by Quinn's brain.

Santana had ordered her drink to go.

No doubt she had somewhere she needed to be.

The problem was that there was a part of Quinn that didn’t want to let Santana walk away. Not again. Not yet. What that meant exactly… Well she wasn’t sure. Perhaps it didn't have to mean anything. All she knew was that she wanted this chance encounter to last a little longer. There was so much to catch up on, so much that had happened to both of them, and Quinn knew she wanted to hear about it all, wanted to share it all. 

As the words left her mouth, part of her mentally chastised herself for allowing them to slip out so easily. Pointing to the cup in Santana's right hand she said, “You don’t have somewhere to be… Do you?”

Quinn half expected Santana to raise an eyebrow in response, but instead was greeted with a soft smile.

“I’m in no rush,” she replied, nodding her head in the direction of a free table in the back corner, “Besides, rushed goodbyes are so 7 years ago. I think this time we can do a little better.”

As Quinn sat down directly opposite Santana, it occurred to her that she had no idea what this was at all. But maybe she didn't need to know. She wasn't sure of what the future held, she wasn't sure if Santana would play any part in it at all, and she wasn't even sure exactly what part she would want her to play anyway. In fact, she wasn't sure of much at all.

However, the one thing she was sure of was that whatever this was, and whatever it might end up being, it seemed like a great way to start again. And maybe, just maybe, that was perfectly alright for now.


End file.
